Spectrum
by Shouvin
Summary: A Supergenius Lone Wanderer with embarrassingly low Charisma. How will he managed the cruel wastes? Rated T for blood, gore, coarse language and in short, everything that made us love fallout so much. R&R! Humor, sci-fi, drama, action, adventure, lots of struggle and everything else thrown together into one big, delicious blend.
1. Life in the Vault, Part 1

Spectrum chapter 1 – Life in the Vault, pt.1

A thick, metallic door opened with a hissing noise as its pneumatic engines worked to move the heavy object. Behind the door stood a man around his mid thirties. He had black hair and a matching thin beard, which despite his relatively young age, was on the verge of turning grey. He had weary brown eyes which implied of the experience of a man three times his age, and both his face and his body had a firm, rough figure that suggested this man did not have an easy life.

He was wearing a white lab coat with the number 101 labeled on its back, on top of a somewhat tight jumpsuit. Aside from a few yellow stripes it was completely blue, with a belt and a device that stretched from behind the man's shoulder and ended on his chest, and a wrist mounted PDA. The room's walls, ceiling and floor were all made of metal, designed to shield its inhabitants from the most devastating scenarios. Inside the room were two beds, a few shelves, a drawer stand and an air conditioner.

On the smaller of the two beds slept a child, who appeared to be around eight years old. He resembled the man in more than one way, but his soft, young features were a major contrast. He was wearing a jumpsuit similar to the man's, minus the coat and the device. He opened his eyes momentarily, and rolled to the other side.

"Good morning, champ." The man said softly, his eyes suddenly showing tenderness that wouldn't seem possible on his harsh features.

An indistinct mumble rose from the bed.

The man took a few steps and sat on the bed. "Wake up. I've got a surprise for you." He reached out, gently shaking the boy's shoulder.

"I don't like surprises.." The boy slurred, pulling the blanket over the top of his head.  
The man's eyebrows rose. "Since when? Come on, you're going to love that one." he stood up and walked to the nearby wall, leaning on it with his arms crossed, looking at his son with an expectant gaze.

The boy, knowing that going back to sleep wasn't an option, rose to a sitting position with his legs on the floor, and begun putting on his shoes with a passive expression.

"Come on." The older man nudged gently, and they both walked out of the room and into the metal halls, letting the door automatically close behind them.

Judging by the lack of the usual chatter of people going about their business, the child grouchily realized it was early. It wasn't night anymore, but _definitely_ too early to be up on a school-free day. A glance towards his old man's wrist device confirmed his assumption. It didn't make things any better.

Without showing any change of emotion, he continued walking silently by his father.

They strolled down the metallic, identical corridors known as the vault, passing doors and staircases as they did, until they finally came to a stop near an identical metallic door. They boy, who lived in that underground maze since he can remember, lazily recognized the place as the cafeteria. Yet, he was too grumpy to wonder what in the world could be so special in the dining room, especially at seven thirty AM. Too sleepy to care about all of the whispered indistinct chatter that came from behind the door.

"Now son, close your eyes." The older man looked down, smiling fondly as his kid obeyed with a barely noticeable eye roll, which was equal to a heavy, annoyed sigh from every other normal kid.

The older man then pushed the button, and the chatter stopped completely as the door slipped open with the usual hissing noise.

The child, although his indifferent appearance, was now quite annoyed. He opened his eyes despite his father's instruction, only to find himself dazed by the cafeteria's lights turning on.  
A deafening " _Surprise!_ " was heard as the entire population of the room shouted in unison, followed by " _Happy birthday Raphael_!"

As Raphael's sharp eyes quickly grown accustomed to the light, he found himself looking at about a dozen familiar faces. His father was now standing in front of him, an expression of pure delight on his face. To his side stood Amata, a young girl with two scrunchies holding her black hair in two separate directions. Behind her was Officer Gomez, a cheerful man with a rough figure wearing a bulletproof vest on top of his jumpsuit. Scattered around the room were Miss Palmer, a kind elderly woman with long, wavy hair, and in the corner table sat three kids around Raphael's age, all looking older than him. Except for the children, every person in the room seemed to have a device similar to Raphael's old man on their left forearm.

A wave from Amata caught his eye. The girl poked the edges of her mouth with both forefingers, then pointed up. She had to repeat the gesture twice more before he realized she's telling him he's supposed to smile. He nodded as an awkward smile slowly formed on his features. Maybe not all surprises are so bad.

Raphael's father spoke up. "Happy birthday pal! You're only ten once, so make the most of it." He sighed, and continued with a less joyful, softer tone, "if only your mother-"

The backdoor of the cafeteria opened as another man walked in, holding a wrist device in his palm, in addition to the one he already wore. Alphonse, Amata's father and the overseer of the vault, with already grey hair and an unpleasant serious expression, spoke up, unconcerned with the fact that he was interrupting a special moment. "Congratulations young man! I don't have to tell you how special this day is, do I?" he stopped in front of the boy, looking down at him. "Down here in vault one-o-one, when you turn ten, well, you're ready to take on your first official vault responsibilities. So here you are: as overseer I hereby present you your very own Pip-boy three thousand." his face turned into an even more serious frown as he gave the device to Raphael, which took it hesitatingly. "Get used to it." he then continued in a somewhat more pleasant tone, "You will be getting your very first vault assignment tomorrow!" he chuckled, which made Raphael shiver inside. His hard worked smile vanished, leaving his face passive once again.

The boy looked up at his father. "Go on." The lab-coated man gently laid his hand on the kid's shoulder.

"Well?" the overseer nudged impatiently as Raphael stared at the device with an indifferent expression.

Reluctantly, Raphael took off his left glove, and pulled the edge of his sleeve which detached around the elbow, held it under his armpit, and slid the glove back on along with the gadget, then pocketed the sleeve.

He frowned, or at least made his equivalent of a frown as he felt an obnoxious stinging sensation where the device was now resting on his arm, as it injected several microscopic sensors into his body, which immediately spread around his system to collect information. Another unpleasant sensation sent shivers down his spine as the device released a small dose of a substance that was meant to prevent his body from rejecting the Nanites.

Applause was heard through the room as the gadget's screen lit up, showing a caricature of a boy wearing a jumpsuit similar to his, standing with his arms spread out. "Thank you, Mr. Almodovar." Raphael forced what he thought was a thankful smile to appear on his features, which was actually a small, scared one.

"Don't mention it." The grey haired adult said coolly, and turned to the coated man. "James, a word please."

James sighed, then kneeled down to his son. "I'm going to have to step out for a minute. Go mingle, It's _your_ party." He mussed the boy's hair before leaving with the overseer as chatter quickly filled the room.

He looked at Amata, who smiled at him apologetically. "Sorry about that."

Raphael nodded. She looked somewhat older than him, although the truth was opposite.

"You _were_ surprised, right? It's hard tell with your mask constantly on."

He looked at her, offended. "I don't wear a mask."

She giggled. "No, dumb-dumb. I meant you _look_ like you're wearing a mask."

He looked at her.

"Here, that! That's what I'm talking about. You always do that." she pointed at his face.

He still looked at her.

"You're so weird. Nevermind. So tell me, were you surprised?" she looked at him, eyes full of hope.

He nodded.

The girl, used to her friend's oblivious behavior, carried on. "So, do you want your gift or not?"

His eyes lit up. It was only then he noticed she was standing with a hand behind her back. "You brought me a gift?"

"Uh-huh!" She nodded enthusiastically. It wasn't easy to get a visible reaction from him. "Go on, guess."

He looked at the floor, considering the possibilities. "It's not likely you got me a robot dog.."

"Nope, try again!"

"A laser pistol?" he stared at the floor.

"Don't be silly." She giggled again. "Here's a hint: Something that you really want, and that I can actually _get_."

He raised his gaze to look at her, resigned. "I really have no Idea."

She rolled her eyes fondly. " _Who's you favorite barbarian?_ " she sing-songed.

He stared at her. "No."

She practically hopped in place. "Yes, Yes!"

"A Grognak Comic book?"

She squealed. "You guessed it!" she pulled her hand to give him an old, yellow tinted comic book with a drawing of a muscular man with long hair, wearing only a loincloth and holding a gigantic sword over his head.

He took the comic without averting his stare from it with a rare, tiny, sincere smile. "Thank you." was all he said as he went through the pages.

"You're welcome!" She hugged him briefly. "Well, I'll better let you get to 'mingling' with your guests." She motioned with her head.

He kept on fiddling with the book. She reached out and snatched it from his hands, making him look at her again. "Hey!"

"It's your birthday party, don't be rude! Go on, talk to your guests." She pushed him towards the tables, where Miss Palmer was sitting. "I'll give it back to you later. Happy birthday."  
Raphael, now bookless, reluctantly approached the elderly woman, who was smiling at him warmly. "Are you having a good time, dear? Ten years old. My, my. It seems like it was only yesterday that your daddy came- Goodness! Listen to me ramble. You're waiting for your present, aren't you?"

Raphael, who had no idea what the pause signified and if he should even be concerned, nodded bluntly. "Yes, ma'am."

"Oh! Such manners. Let me tell you young man. Whatever happens to you, no matter how upset you may get, don't lose your manners." The child just nodded. "Ahh, I remember back when I was ten, the vault was practically crowded back then. Not like today, so few young people now.." She stared at some invisible object behind Raphael as she thought of her youth. "Oh, am I babbling again? Here you go, a nice sweet-roll that I baked for you just this morning. And it's _all_ for you!" she took a palm- sized plastic box out from her pocket and gave it to him.

"Thank you, Miss Palmer." The boy took the box with a thankful smile. "Pish-posh. Run along now!" Raphael looked at the table next to the elderly woman, where three children around his age were sitting. He exhaled silently and took a step, when a deep, British voice was heard from behind the counter.

"Attention everyone, it's time to cut the cake!" Said Andy from behind the counter, the Vault's 'Mister handy' robot. His main body was a hovering metal orb, with three small arms attached to it, one in the front, and two at each side. Each had a big, round optic sensor attached to them. From the lower part of the floating orb were three longer, much thicker arms, one under each optic sensor, all on top of a motorized hoop, allowing the robot to position the arm that it needs the most for the moment in his front. Each lower arm had a different device attached to it: a claw, a buzz-saw and a small gas pipe with a lighter in its end. On the bottom of the main body was a hollow tube which let out a constant stream of compressed air, which kept the robot floating in mid-air.

Raphael knew the gas pipe was called a 'Flame thrower', and after seeing it in use once, his curiosity was more than sated.

The robot's arms rotated around him for a moment, coming to a halt with the saw hand in front. The blade spun with a loud buzzing noise, approaching the cake on the counter. Until the boy calculated what a disaster it was going to be it was already too late. The saw had come in contact with the moist delicacy, and splattered most of it to shreds, sending crumbs all over the place.

A few of the guests gasped, and the chatter stopped, leaving the room uncomfortably silent.

The robot's sensors were lowered to look at the floor. "I am _mortified_ by the cake mishap. Simply mortified." He exclaimed in his posh British accent.

One of the three kids, already with a Pip-boy of his own, got up and stood in front of the birthday boy, looking down at him. He was a head taller, with brown, sturdy hair, and a glower that never seemed to leave his face.

Raphael didn't like Butch, especially because he used his more developed body to pick on weaker kids.

"I'm hungry, and that stupid robot destroyed the cake! Gimmie that sweet-roll!" he pushed Raphael's shoulder.

Raphael, with his indistinct expression once again, pocketed the lunchbox with the sweet-roll, and with his gloveless hand took a handful of the cake. "It's still good." he said with a mouthful. "Besides, it's not every day we get cake. It would be a waste not to eat it."

The older-looking kid's pout turned even sourer. "What, you're actually eating that, roach-mouth? _Gimmie, that, sweet-roll_!"

Raphael looked at him, a hardly noticeable frown formed on his features. He considered his next move very carefully. While he wasn't especially strong or fast to say the least, he wasn't stupid. "It's mine. Go soak your head." He said as a course of action formed in his head.

Butch' eyes widened, and his brows lowered. "What, did you say to me?"

Raphael looked him in the eye. "Go. Soak. Your. Stupid. Looking. Head."

Butch raised his hand, fingers already curled into a fist, but the small framed kid was ready for that. He shoved the remains of the cake in his hand into the bully's face, effectively blocking his sight.

He didn't have to do much more, as Butch stumbled back and tripped on one of the chairs, hitting his head.

Officer Gomez immediately placed himself between the two kids, with his arms spread out. He looked down at the birthday boy with wide eyes. "What do you think you're doing?!"

Raphael looked at the officer, helpless. "I.. he... It's his fault!" he pointed behind the officer's back.

The security officer turned, only to find the older looking child clutching his head, laying on the floor, face full of cake, crying.

He turned back to Raphael. "He.. he tried to hit me! I swear!" Raphael implored.

"Relax, kiddo. I believe you." It was only then Raphael realized the armored man wasn't angry.

He kneeled down to help the crying boy, grabbing him by the arm and helping him up. "Come on, Butch. Let's get you to your quarters." He escorted the child by the arm and left the room.

James, upon seeing this, rushed into the room. "Are you alright?" Raphael nodded. "What happened here?"

Raphael looked at the floor.

The man sighed. "That's alright, you don't have to tell me. I just hope you weren't the one to start it."

"No." Raphael mumbled, still looking at the floor.

James looked around, than back at his son. "Jonas and I have been cooking a little surprise present for you. He's waiting for you at the reactor level. I don't think anyone will mind if you'll slip out for a few minutes."

The boy, still looking at the floor, nodded and walked out of the cafeteria, quickly pacing through then monotonic corridors of the Vault. It wasn't long until he reached a staircase with a sign over it that read "Reactor Level". He dashed down the stairs, trying to vent some of his anger.

He reached the lower floor with a loud thump, coming to a halt inside the small room.  
Jonas, a dark skinned scientist and maintenance worker in his early twenties, was examining a huge, sparkling generator that took most of the space of the room. He was neatly shaven, and had dark hair which was cut very close to his skull, making him appear nearly bald. He was wearing a lab coat similar to James, and a pair of glasses.

He turned around as he heard the kid practically land in the room. "What are you doing here, young man? I thought kids weren't allowed down on the reactor level." He crossed his arms over his chest.

Raphael looked up. "Jonas, I just had a fight with Butch. Dad told me you're waiting for me, so if you're using sarcasm or playing some game, please stop."

Jonas, still smiling, raised his eyebrows. "Wow, tough birthday. Um, look. Your father wanted to give you the surprise himself. So if you can wait a minute.."

The kid just nodded indifferently.

"So, I see you have a Pip-boy now.." The man akwardly said.

The kid just nodded indifferently.

Jonas smiled fondly. "Not in the mood to talk?"

The kid shook his head.

The dark skinned scientist went back to tinkering with the generator when footsteps were heard from the staircase.

Raphael, now only being able to think about how badly he wanted to close himself in his room for the rest of the week, looked up to see his dad holding an old rifle made from wood and hardened plastic. Raphael's eyes immediately lit up as he recognized the toy from the commercial posters in children's books.

The older man laughed at the immediate change in the child's mood. "You're old enough to do some work, so I figured you're old enough for this." Raphael carefully took the toy weapon from his father's hands, admiring its worn, battered texture. "It's a little old, but it works perfectly."

That last part made Raphael smile. "Thank you, dad." He turned around, "Thanks uncle Jonas."

"I knew you would love this. Want to give it a try?"

Raphael's smile faded. "I can't shoot down here."

Jonas chuckled. "Smart kid you've got there, Jamey."

James smiled fondly, his rough features softening at the remark. "No, we can't." He walked to the door at the side of the room, and pressed on the console button. The door opened with the usual pneumatic hiss to reveal a long corridor full of big metallic crates which Raphael never seen before. At the edge of the corridor, between two smaller crates were three poles, with a target at the end of each of them. Each pole was welded with two other metal poles, and all three ends were affixed on big, round black objects which Raphael only seen in pictures, mounted on the bottom of cars, called tires. Another curious pre-war item he has never seen in reality.

Raphael excitingly walked to the end of the corridor, examining his new gift thoroughly, then held it at waist level and squeezed the trigger. The pill-looking BB projectile flew past the targets and hit the wall behind, ricocheting back and passing inches near his neck.

"Careful there!" James yelled, his lab coat flailing as he ran to his son's side. "Now, now. first you're going to have to learn how to shoot." The scientist kneeled near the boy, taking the weapons from his arms, and started to explain the various dangers of using such tool, while Jonas raised a camera, documenting the moment: where James fondly looking at his only child, and Raphael with the serious expressions of a working man, focusing their attention only towards each other.

* * *

 **Author notes: That was a really long and exhausting episode to write. Hope you enjoyed it.**

 **Also, English is not my main language, so any grammar mistakes pointed out will be greatly appreciated.**

 **Big shoutout to RiotDragon, which heavily inspired me to write with his own awesome fallout fanfic "Wasteland Waltz". If you liked my story you'll** ** _love_** **his. (He's on chapter 26 and counting, as for when this is written. If you're from the future, you're probably enjoying the god-like experience of reading his full story.)**

 **R &R!**

 **It means Read and Review.. which you.. probably knew that already..**

 **Just do it.**

 **Thank you.**


	2. Life in the Vault, Part 2

Spectrum chapter 2 – Life in the Vault, pt.2

Raph, now sixteen years old, has grown rather scrawny, and still looked younger than his actual age.

He was sitting on his bed, thoroughly reading trough a thick book, his dull-brown eyes scampering across the pages at a bewildering pace. To his feet were numerous others, thick and thin, plain looking and colorful books, with one common ground - they were either encyclopedias or otherwise generally informative.

His attention was shattered by the usual hiss of a mechanical door. His immature features, which looked like a fifteen years old at best, frowned at the interruption as he looked up to see his best friend enter the room.

Amata, now more developed, physically and mentally, had her hair pulled back in a short, dark ponytail. She still looked older than him, lucky her.

She smiled at the bizarre scene. "Hey Raph."

He smiled back, not having to dedicate so much attention to the action after six years of her teachings. "Hey Em, What's up?"

She sat on the bed beside him. Practically landed into it. "School, studies, dad's a jerk. The usual stuff. What are you up to?"

He lowered his gaze back into the book, reading slower to some extent as he split his attention between the book and the conversation. "Studying for the G.O.A.T tomorrow."

Amata chuckled. "You can't 'study' for the Goat." she emphasized the quotations with two fingers of each hand. "It's a multiple choice with no wrong answers." "-Designed to pick the job which will be best suited for you based on your personality and interests. Yes, that's what they _want_ you to think." His eyes were darting across the papers, and by the time he finished his last sentence he flipped three pages.

"But you're not supposed to.. Ughhh, never mind." Amata rubbed her eyes. Arguing was pointless at this point. Knowing him, he probably swallowed the entire Vault's library ten times by now.

She took off her boots and climbed onto the bed, positioning herself behind him, with their backs leaning on each other. She closed her eyes and exhaled silently, letting the anxieties of a long, hard school day wear off.

There was a long moment of comfortable silence until Raph spoke up, not breaking gaze from his book.

"Amata?"

"Hmm?"

"What are you doing?"

"Enjoying your company." She said as a matter of fact-ly, not bothering to move or even open her eyes.

He blinked, lowering the book. "Isn't that ..weird?"

"A bit." she murmured. "Yes."

He blinked again, now staring at the book rather than reading it. His shoulders rose and tensed and his mind raced as he desperately tried to understand what he knew the least about - a social situation. "So, you're not afraid to be weird around me.. that means you're comfortable with me."

"Oh, _jeez_." She sighed fondly. "Yes." She knew that once he was in this mood, there was no end to his questioning.

He nodded to himself, his shoulders relaxing unconsciously. "That means I can do the same?"

"If you feel like it, you can wake me in the middle of the freaking night because of something stupid like you couldn't sleep."

"Like you already did."

She blushed. "Um.. yes. Don't mention it in front of other people."

"Because that counts as weird."

She rolled her eyes. "Right _again_."

"But it's okay that you're weird around me."

"Oh my god! **Yes**."

Silence. Another page flip.

"So.. we're good friends?"

She got off the bed and placed herself in front of him, her face inches from his, glaring death into his eyes. "Raphael Patrick Johnson. We've literally known each other our entire lives. If I hear **one** more uncertainty about our friendship from you, I will punch your face **so hard** , that you'll have to walk with my fist-print on your cheek for the rest of your life. "

"I don't have a middle name, and that's not physically poss.." He trailed off, realizing the irrelevance of his statements. She raised her eyebrows and tilted her head, which he learned to interpret as an annoyed 'keep going'.

"Oh." He frowned as he struggled to fathom the new information. "Okay." Amata shook her head and rolled her eyes, and went back to sit against his back. "Happy birthday, by the way."

"Hmm." Raphael mused distractedly as he ravaged through four more pages. "Thanks."

He then smirked impishly, not realizing the full extent of the mistake he was about to make. "Wait, we're _friends_?"

* * *

He was walking through the vault's metallic, monotonic hallways, preparing himself for the worst. He went through the comprehensive studies in his mind as he rubbed his arm, which still hurt from yesterday.

A lot.

He swore to himself to never annoy Amata even if it means having to kiss Butch.

Or die, whichever came first.

He chuckled to himself as he took a turn under a sign that read 'Infirmary' .

Jonas, looking exactly the same as he ever did, smiled warmly when he saw the teenage dweller.

"Hey hey, sport! Came by to see the old man before the big test?" he asked cheerfully.

Raph smiled and embraced the scientist in a hug. "Gimmie a break, you're not even forty."

The man cocked an eyebrow. "Let's see how you feel after working around the clock twenty-four seven."

The teen smirked. "Better than you, that's for sure."

The scientist waved a finger at him. "Watch your tongue, boy."

Raph looked at the floor, more to hide his smirk, which for some reason refused to vanish, than actually show the shame he felt. "Sorry."

Jonas waved his hand in cancellation. "Your father's in the infirmary, taking care of poor Stanley." he gestured with his thumb.

The doctor's son nodded. "Thanks."

He then strolled to the back of the room, and knocked on the small window, through which he could see a working table and a computer terminal. The terminal had 'Enter Password' than a few underscores under it showing on its screen. The teen scanned it briefly, seeing it for at least the hundredth time in his life, then knocked again.

The door opened with the usual hiss to reveal James in his usual white coat over a Vault's Jumpsuit, now with somewhat grayer hair. He was irritated.

"I'm in the middle of an appointment, can't-" his eyes laid on his son, which now had his passive expression on once again.

He never actually got to see his dad angry before. His weary eyes and rough features combined with that dreadful-looking frown made Raph be on edge, which made him forget to use his face to show emotion.

James's expression immediately softened, melting back into the familiar, pleasant smile as he continued with a more pleasant tone. "Look, I'm in the middle of an appointment right now. Is it urgent?"

Raph unfroze and smiled with ease. "No, just wanted to say hi before the test."

The doctor nodded. "Good luck. I'm sure you'll ace it." he said in a fatherly tone. "Go on now, I need to-"

"-Actually, I feel kind of sick.." The doctor's son coughed unconvincingly.

James's smile vanished. He tilted his head, looking at his son with a indifferent expression of his own.

Raph recognized that look. _Oh, really?_

He pouted. " _Worth the shot._ " he mumbled.

The man just shook his head.

The teen nodded. "See ya." he said as they both turned their backs as they went their separate ways.

He heard Jonas yell "Good luck!'' as he left the room, and kept on walking as a small, unaware smile formed on his features.

* * *

Raph managed to catch the phrase "Stupid tunnel snakes!" as he came down the stairs to enter another hallway which led to his classroom. That was Amata's voice.

Butch, the class's bully, along with Wally and Paul, which served as his permanent suckers were all standing near the classroom's entrance, blocking Amata's path. They were all wearing a black leather Jacket with a snake print on their backs.

Raphael's expression darkened at the sight. Wally was an ass, but Paul was actually a nice person. When he wasn't busy sucking up to Butch so much, that is.

Butch smirked. "I'll show you a _real_ tunnel snake." he raised and lowered his eyebrows repeatedly.

Amata frowned in disgust. "You're sick, Butch! Why won't you just leave me alone?"

Raphael picked up his pace. "What is going on here?" he imitated his father's confident, berating tone.

Butch turned to look at the scrawny teen. "None of your business kid. Now get out of here before you get hurt." He stood straight and crossed his arms, making himself look more threatening. "If you mess with the tunnel snakes, you're asking for it. Got it?!"

Raphael raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. But truth be told he was terrified. "Mess with my friend, and you will answer to _me_." He tried to lower his voice to no avail.

"And who are you, her _boyfriend_? Ha!" the two sidekicks snickered at the remark. "Keep talking like that, boy, and we'll send you back to your daddy with a few broken bones to fix."

Raph glared at him. A kick to the crotch will hurt him like everyone else. That idea was actually very appealing.

So he invested as much strength as he could muster into its execution.

Butch yelped as he collapsed to the floor, holding on to his sore spot for dear life.

Wally and Paul both tensed at the sight, ready for a fight. But the teen dweller took out a retractable baton from his pocket, swinging it open with a smooth motion. He glared at the two stooges as they stood there, eyes wide, mouths agape.

"Well don't just stand there.." Butch groaned.

The two hesitatingly raised their fists. " _You don't want to do that._ " Raphael said with a dark, unpleasant tone, slowly moving his head from side to side. Thank _god_ he ran into the overseer that day, as the former was threatening to transfer poor Stanley to garbage duty.

The two froze. He kicked the tortured bully in the ribs. "Get up!" he barked. Butch groaned and slowly stood up, still clutching his family jewels. "You will go there," Raph pointed at the classroom's door with the baton, "Sit down like the good kids you are, and take the test like nothing happened. Unless you want to end up crippled for the rest of your life."

He winked at Amata, as the threat was partly constructed of what she said the day before. But she looked concerned, for some reason.

Paul raised his hands defensively, taking a step back. "Be cool man. Whatever you say, man. We're cool." He looked at Wally and they both entered the class.

Butch watched the two walk away and back at the armed dweller. "Yeah, whatever. This little bitch isn't worth our time anyway." He said arrogantly, but what little left of his pride vanished as he made a few quick steps when Raphael raised the baton in a threatening motion.

Raph covered his mouth as he felt almost ready to hurl, his heart pounding at an abnormal rate. He weakly leaned on the wall as his legs felt as if they were made of Jelly, feeling the tension in his body melt as he probably just walked away from what seemed to be the riskiest move he ever pulled. He didn't have the slightest idea how to use the baton, and while he did got the drop on Butch, he knew practically nothing about fighting and was far from being able to take on two prepared foes.

"Jesus.." he exhaled quietly.

"Put that away before someone sees you!" Amata whispered as she helped him stand straight. "Thanks for getting rid of them. _Assholes_." she spat.

He blinked, surprised. Butch must really have done to make _Amata_ out of all people, curse.

"Where did you get that?" her eyebrows arched with concern for some reason.

"The armory's security is a joke. I hacked the terminal." He smiled proudly, shrugging. "Did you know they have a laser pistol in there?" he retracted the baton.

She stared at him. "My god, you're crazy."

"Nah, I'm just different." He shrugged again.

She kept staring at him, then chuckled, shaking her head in disbelief, making her short ponytail wiggle as she did. "You should really put that back though, you could get in big trouble."

He nodded absentmindedly. "Hm. Is that why you're concerned?"

"Duh!" she looked at him and slightly shook her head, raising one eyebrow,

He snorted. "Running into a gigantic cockroach while going to the bathroom is a higher probability then getting caught by the lazy excuse for security that we've got." He said indifferently. While It has happened over the years, Radroaches were still a rare occurrence. "Besides, dad always said it never hurts to be prepared."

"Thanks. Now I'm going to be scared every time I have to go." She glared at him.

Raphael, finding himself at a loss of words, looked at her helpless. "Relax. I'm just messing with you." she laughed. Her face then became serious again. "Seriously though, put it back."

They both then looked at the classroom's door. Amata looked back at him. "Are you ready for this?"

" _Absolutely_ not. You?"

She shrugged . "Probably never."

They both stared at the door in silence, neither of them moving. "Should we.. go inside?" Raph questioned.

"I think that would be a good idea."

Silence.

"Maybe tomorrow." The teen dweller turned the other way, only to be caught by his friend by the upper arm. "Oh no. If I'm going to die, I'm taking you with me." He tried to resist, but Amata entered the classroom, dragging him along.

Mr. Brotch, a dark skinned, pleasant man around his late thirties, motioned them to take a seat. There was no escape now.

The scrawny teenage sighed as his teacher distributed paper sheets, and begun to read the questions out loud. About five minutes and twenty four ridiculous questions later, which had absolutely nothing to do with anything he studied, the hopeless teen paced towards his teacher's table.

"Well, if it isn't my star pupil, young mister Johnson." The dark skinned man greeted pleasantly. "How did it go?"

Raph sighed faintly and handed the paper sheet, preparing for the worst.

The teacher put the paper inside a scanner hooked up to a bulky computer terminal, pressing a few buttons. "Oh, I'm sure it wasn't that bad." His smile vanished as he looked at the screen. "Garbage recycling worker." He whispered.

"Shit. Stupid test. I knew it's all just bullshit!" The teen whispered angrily.

"Hey, watch your language." The teacher sent him a glare.

If he even had a speck of hope before, it was gone now. "Please, there must be something you can do!" he pleaded.

A girl raised her head from the paper sheet. "Do you mind? Some of us are trying to pay attention." she berated, then went back to chew the back of her pencil.

"Sorry." Raph whispered. He's doomed to wallowing in garbage for his entire life, _and_ he just made Christine Kendall mad. Great. He prayed for the divines to end his life on the very spot.

The teacher sighed. "Look. I was just as obnoxious at your age. I didn't take the test seriously.." He paused.

"Nah, who am I kidding? You're a good kid, and I like your father. Between you and me, the whole test is a _joke_." He quickly scanned the classroom, then leaned closer "If you want, I can make it come out any way you want." He whispered.

Raph's eyes lit up. There was still hope. "Oh _god_ , thank you. Is there anything with technology?"

The man fiddled with his computer, making clicking noises as his fingers flicked across the various keys. "There's Vault maintenance and there's engineering. How do you like that?"

The teen nodded in relief. "Mr. Brotch, you're the best."

The teacher eyed him. "Which _one_ of them would you like?"

Raph looked at him. "Both."

The teacher examined him with a raised eyebrow. "Good luck finding time to sleep." He typed some more.

"Stanley would be glad." Brotch shook his head, pulling a job administration sheet and handing it to Raph. "Don't mention it."

He left the class, tip-toeing his way out, and leaned on the wall nearby. It wasn't long before students were walking out in various moods.

He nodded towards the overseer's daughter as she emerged from the room. "How'd it go?"

She showed him her sheet. "Supervisory. In other words, Overseer's little helper." She stuck out her tongue with an open mouth and pointed at her uvula.

He frowned. That gesture either expressed disgust or meant _There's something in my mouth_. After waiting a moment to make sure she wasn't choking he went with the first option. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Yeah, but not when I have to work with my dad twenty four-seven." She pinched her nose bridge. "What about you?"

He put on his face what was probably the biggest smile he ever managed to make, as he gave her the good news.

She raised her head, smiling. "Lucky you." She put her fist in front of her mouth and coughed, blurting "Nerd." then coughed again.

He gently pushed her with an amused smile of his own.

They talked for a while when Christine Kendall walked out of the room. Raph immediately forgot what he was saying as he stared at her thick, groomed black hair, which bounced with every step. "Christine?" his voice was a lot weaker then what he remembered.

She turned to him. "Um.. yeah? You need something?" she raised one perfect eyebrow, as her delicate lips curved, pondering.

"I'm sorry about before." He awkwardly blurted out, his face expressionless again.

She tilted her head. He swallowed. "About what?"

His mouth opened, then closed. Then opened again. Amata watched with interest. Although he seemed indifferent, the signs were there. The sweat, the fidgeting of his fingers, and the barely noticeable, distressful look in his eyes.

He looked at Amata, which bent her palm in front of her neck, moving it from side to side as she gently shook her head with a painful expression. _Stop before it's too late,_ He mentally translated.

He looked back at Christine Kendall, trying to avoid from letting her green eyes erase his brain. "Nevermind."

The girl raised her eyebrows in mild surprise. "O..key" and walked away.

He covered his face with his palm.

Amata put a comforting palm on his back. "Ouch."

He didn't bother to look up. "Tell me about it." He suddenly perked his head up raising one finger, as if saying, _listen to that._

"You surprised me Butch. Didn't think you had it in you. Hairdresser! Who knew?" Mr. Brotch was heard from inside the classroom, his voice dripping with delight.

The two friends Exchanged glances before snickering loudly. Amata wiped a tear. "Come on, let's go get some lunch."

* * *

Three years flew by as the teenager grew into a young man. He was now more muscular as he realized the importance of working out, which helped compensate for his young appearance. His more fit figure brought out his resemblance to his father, which pushed him to work twice as hard. But in addition to looking younger, his features were still soft and naive, unlike his old man's rough features, and he didn't have the same experienced, somewhat scarred look in his eyes.

He stumbled onto his bed, somewhat tipsy after a pleasant birthday party with Amata and Paul. He shook his head, trying to punch some clarity into his mind. It was his first time drinking beer, and purely due to peer pressure from his two best friends, he had a little too much. He swore to never drink again.

After crashing on his bed, face down, not even bothering to take off his jumpsuit or even his shoes, he foggily pondered his accomplishments over the last three years.

Graduating, becoming head maintenance supervisor and the vault's leading engineer. Taking apart and putting back together every piece of scrap and metal he could see, mapping the vault down to the inch as he did. Breaking into every terminal and picking every lock he could find out of pure curiosity (or boredom) - which led him to drastically improve the vault's security. Befriending Paul which turned out to be his second best friend. Helping his father at the infirmary until he was confident with his first aid skills and had a basic knowledge of the human body. Getting a date with Christine Kendall - which for him was quite an achievement by itself.

Getting dumped by Christine Kendall.

He had a great Job and was damn good at it, his social struggles were beginning to untangle, and his thirteenth engineering project was showing a lot of promise. The Vault and its inhabitants had more than enough information to sate his hunger for knowledge for a long while, his father was proud of him, and he had _amazing_ friends.

God knows life in the Vault wasn't perfect. But, he pondered happily, could it ever get better then this?

* * *

"Wake up!"

Raph felt a violent shake, which greatly disturbed his capability of sleep. His head hurt and everything was too bright. He closed his eyes and pushed whoever was bothering him.

A sharp, burning pain spread across his cheek made him snap his eyes open, ready to leap at the aggressor. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Amata rubbing her palm. Her eyes were wide with horror. "Look, I'm sorry for slapping you, but there's just no time!"

Raph fell back into the bed in a sitting position as closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. Her voice was making his headache worse. "Jeez, Em, relax. What happened?"

She bit her lip. "My father went crazy, and his men are coming for you!" She seemed on the verge of crying.

He shook his head once again, groaning as it only made the pain worse. "What? Why.." he exhaled deeply, and rubbed his temples a second time. Never. Again.

"It's your father, he left the vault."

* * *

 **Author's note:**

 **I had a lot of fun writing Amata and Raph's interactions. If you ask me, that's the best part of this chapter.**

 **R &R, and I will be forever grateful.  
Seriously. Follows and favorites are nice, but nothing keeps an author going more than actually hearing what the readers think.**

 **English is not my main language.. yadda yadda.. thankful for any mistakes pointed out.. you know the drill.**

 **A big thank-you for the people who read this,  
and a bigger one for those who already reviewed: Cenedra23, RiotDragon (who's an awesome author as well), and Davywolf99.**

 **More coming up, hopefully.**

 **Peace.**


	3. Escape from the Vault, Part 1

Spectrum chapter 3- Escape from the Vault, pt.1

Raph closed his eyes as he rubbed his temples. Her voice was making his headache worse, and the slap he just received, which was her attempt to wake him up, didn't help. "Jeez, M. relax. What happened?"

"You've got to get out of here! Your dad is gone, and my father's men are looking for you!" her voice broke, and she seemed on the verge of tears.

His eyes snapped open, the headache, along with everything else, vanished as adrenalin suddenly pumped through his veins. "What?!"

"He left the vault! I don't know how, but he's gone. And my father.. he, he had gone crazy-" She looked down at the floor, holding back a sob.

Raph put a hand on the back of his head, sliding it down to his neck, eyes darting around the room as he processed the information. He then examined her. "Crazy.. how?" he inquired.

She didn't respond. She had her hand over her mouth.

He grabbed her by the shoulders. "Amata, Look at me." He commanded. She raised her gaze, surprised.

Locking eyes with hers, he continued more softly. "What happened?"

She sobbed. "It's Jonas. They.." she sniffed, "They killed him! My father's men. They took him and.." she took a deep breath, "Oh my god. You have to leave, now!"

With his usual passive expression, he jumped onto his feet and pressed on the door's console. The keypads lit up in its usual green lights as he pressed a combination of numbers. It buzzed, and the buttons turned red.

He then turned around, and upon seeing his friend sob, gently pulled her in for a hug, still struggling with the new information. Jonas, his father's best friend, and a second father to him, was laying on the ground somewhere, a lifeless corpse.

She embraced him back for a few moments before gently pushing him away. "Don't worry about me." she wiped her tears, her voice cracking. "I'm just sorry you had to find out like this." She took a deep breath, and exhaled. Her voice was steady again. "I know Jonas was your friend."

"So what next?" he asked, a little harsher than he intended to.

Her face wore an expression of pain. "You'll leave too, and it better be soon. My father's men will be here any moment!"

He ran a hand trough his short, brown hair, as he fell back onto his bed. "But the Vault is sealed shut." As far as he knew, the Vault's door was never opened since the nuclear missiles hit during the Great War, irradiating the earth and deeming it unsuitable for living organisms. Long before any of them were born.

Long, _long_ before.

Along with many other thoughts, the Vault's most famous slogan played in his head. _'It is here you were born. It is here you will die. Because in Vault 101, no one ever enters, and no one ever leaves.'_

He stared at the floor. "How in the world did he.." He snapped. "You're right. Staying here is a death wish. But so is.." Although his indifferent expression, she could see the horror in his eyes. He then blinked and shook his head. "No." He declared decisively. "If dad went.. _outside_ , that means it's adequate for life." If his father wanted to commit suicide, he would have picked something that won't frenzy the entire Vault. At least not as much as opening the Vault did. That just wasn't him.

Right?

His head started to hurt again, like it was getting kicked with every heartbeat. "Where will I go?" He said, more thinking out loud than actually asking. But he couldn't help the hopeless tone that sneaked into his voice.

There was silence as both of their minds were racing to find an answer. Amata was the first to break the silence. "Look," She sighed, kneeling to his height. "I know this isn't any of my business, but didn't your father tell you that he was leaving?"

Raph buried his head in his palms. He then stood up, a determined expression on his face, took off his shoes and started going through his drawers, fiddling with the many items that were inside. "If I did, you would have known about it the first chance I had to talk to you." He said harshly, pulling out another jumpsuit.

Her eyes widened somewhat. "Oh.. wow. Look, I'm sure he had his reasons. Maybe.. maybe Jonas was supposed to explain it to you?" She shook her head, her voice turning decisive. "It doesn't matter now. I have my own plan, and I can help you escape!"

He examined the other suit. "Let's hear it." He put the suit aside, looked down at his wrist and started tinkering with his Pip-boy.

"Security is everywhere, and the main door to the upper level is guarded. But there's a secret tunnel that leads directly-" "-from your father's office to the exit? Yes, I was thinking about that as well." he cut her off, not even bothering to look up.

She frowned. "It's really annoying when you do that, you know."

He looked at her for a second, "Do what?" he examined her expression, then returned to his tinkering of the wrist mounted Personal Information Processor. "Know stuff?" His expression brightened when a click sounded from his wrist device.

She rolled her eyes. "No, I meant..-" Her eyes widened in horror, " _What are you doing?_ " She exclaimed as he unbuckled his Pip-boy's cuff. He took it off, revealing it to only be an empty shell, holding a flat, rectangular device that served as the Pip-boy's screen. On his wrist, underneath where the device was a moment ago, he wore a black, thin bracelet that resembled a Pre-war device called a watch. But instead of having a hand mechanism that showed the time, it had a small fastener that was currently folded.

He took out the Pip-boy's screen, which detached as a whole. It was somewhat bigger than his palm, and it didn't seem affected by the tinkering whatsoever, as it showed the time with green digits on a black background.

He disparagingly threw the metallic bracelet on the bed. " _Won't be needing this garbage anymore._ " He muttered.

He laid the device on the desk near the suit and rubbed his left wrist with noticeable ease. Well, noticeable if you knew what to look for. He then took off his jumpsuit and laid it on the drawer, revealing fit looking arms and legs underneath a white undershirt and boxers.

Amata looked away, somewhat flustered. "But, the biometric seals.." she raised an eyebrow. "Is that even a Pip-boy?"

He snorted as he slipped his legs into the new suit. "Bio-seals my ass. Just an Anty-theft mechanism that with some basic knowledge can be disabled by the user, or anyone else who knows what buttons to press." He pulled the suit up and slid his hands into the sleeves. "Besides, I always hated the Pip-boy." He pulled the zipper up, finishing wearing the new suit. "So yes, I made my own version." He put on his shoes. "Honestly, I don't know how you even manage to change outfits." He quickly tied the shoelaces.

The new suit was made from a more flexible fiber, and was tighter to some extent, highlighting his somewhat muscular form. It had bigger side pockets, additional ones on the thighs and on the belt, and similar to a kid's suit, lacked the metal sash that every other jumpsuit had on the left shoulder. He liked the fit of his utility suit a lot more than the usual one.

She shook her head. "Anyway, you'll have to use this to get in." She handed him a magnetic card.

He looked at it.

He blinked.

"Get in the.." He mouthed _'Ohh'_ , nodding. "The overseer's office. Right. Uhh.. I don't think I'll need this." He politely pushed her hand away.

He picked the Pip-device, put it in his left thigh pocket, and fiddled in the old suit.

She stared at him again. "Did you seriously..?" She didn't even bother finishing her sentence.

"Broke into your dad's office? Yes." He took out a first aid box from the drawer stand, and emptied its content on the table. A few tiny packs of Antiseptics and syringes that contained a strange dark brown substance with plastic sterile covers on their needles.

She shook her head yet again. That lunatic never ceased to amaze her. "You're crazy."

Raph pocketed the medical supplies in his utility belt. "Nah. I'm just different." He then grabbed the old suit, and tied each sleeve at the base, doing the same for the legs, and tied the end of each sleeve with its corresponding leg-sleeve, effectively turning them into backpack leashes.

He then took out his retractable Baton, pocketing it in his right thigh pocket, smiling in amusement.

Amata looked at the weapon, which poked out from his pocket, and cursed every living being for what she was about to do.

As he fiddled with the drawer again, taking various items and stowing them in the backpack, she took out a big, bulky pistol from her belt. "One more thing. I.." She took a deep breath, handing out the gun. "I stole my father's pistol."

The young man wore his improvised backpack, reached out and carefully grabbed the gun at its grip. He looked at her, surprised. Amata, his best friend, the sworn peace lover, which always freaked out about his baton, just stole her own father's long-range, _lethal_ weapon. For him.

He eyed it with a shaking hand, unsure, and looked up at her. "Thank you. I promise I'll use it as a last resort."

She pulled him into a tight hug. "Just be careful." She whispered mournfully, and let go.

"I'll try to meet you at the exit. Watch out for security." She took a couple of steps back, standing near the door. Her face was the incarnation of sorrow.

She hesitatingly pressed on the red keypad, which turned green at the last button press, and the door opened up with its usual hiss. "Good luck," she said, as the heavy metal object seamlessly disappeared into the floor. Raph nodded, then turned to the drawer, making sure he got everything he needed.

His attention shifted upon hearing Amata shriek.

Behind the door stood a man wearing the Vault's security armor and holding an expanded retractable police baton, identical to Raph's. But the man's baton, along with his armor, was sullied with a transparent slime and brown bits. The facemask, combined with the lights that for some reason were just too damn bright, prevented Raph from seeing the officer's face clearly.

His eyes widened with surprise behind his helmet's facemask, then squinted. He retracted the weapon and slid it into a special holster in his belt and snatched the girl by the arm, seemingly unaware of Raph's presences. "You're coming with me, girlie. Your daddy wants to _talk_ to you."

Amata tried to break free. "Ouch! You're hurting me!" She protested, but her squirming did nothing, only serving to slow him down.

Raph's blood boiled. Blinding lights, deafening noises, exhaustion and a mind-numbing headache were nothing but petty discomforts now. This Asshole was hurting his friend.

He took a few wide steps, whipped out the club and hit the man's hand, causing him to jerk it away, letting go of the young woman in the process, who clutched her arm with a painful expression.

If a glare could shatter rocks, Raphael's eyes could melt steel. "Leave her out of this, **Mother-Fucker**!"

The man stopped massaging his arm and flashed a wicked smile at Raph. "So there you are. You're coming with me," he sneered.

Raph raised the baton, but the man caught his arm and twisted it behind the teen's back, and forced him to walk out to the hall.

 _What was I thinking?_

Amata protested. "Let him go!' She hammered with her fist on the man's vest, but he just pushed her, making the overseer's daughter fall on her behinds.

The teen dweller tried to resist, but to no avail. The grip was tight, and painful. He didn't like the looks of this, so after a few steps he found a possible solution. He reached out with his other hand, and grabbed where the man's armor did not cover him.

And squeezed with all of his might.

He felt the hold on his arms weaken as he heard the man groan. Still clutching the tortured man, he jerked his arm free, pulled out his own gun by the barrel, and slammed the man's knee with the grip, forcing him to the floor.

He turned to face the groaning man. "You'll pay for this." the officer muttered in pain, clutching his crotch.

Raph's blank expression turned dark. "Self-defense, perfectly legal. While you, you just come here, take me out of my room, no explanation, no charges. I have my right to-"

As Raph ranted the man begun to stand up, having one leg already underneath him. The teen kicked the man's head, sending the helmet flying off of his head. Raph's eyes widened.

That was Mr. Kendall, Christine Kendall's father.

Mr. Kendall angrily shook his head, dizzy. He reached into his second holster. "That's it. I'm going to kill yo-" He was cut off as the startled teen swung the pistol on the man's head. The officer's eyes rolled up and he collapsed on the floor, mouth agape.

And with a large pistol halfway out.

"Oh god." Raph stumbled towards the wall and leaned weakly. His eyes were wide and his mouth was open. He felt as if someone shoved a burning torch down his stomach. "Oh god. Oh go-" He threw up what little he had in his stomach. "Oh _shit_." He coughed, wiping his mouth with the back of his palm. The pistol was still in his hand.

He perked up as the overseer's voice boomed from the Vault's PA system, echoing throughout the metal halls.

 _"This is the Overseer. The radroach infestation is under control. Do_ _ **not**_ _interfere with vault security personnel."_ It was only then he noticed that the Vault's alarms were playing all along.

This hangover was really getting to him.

Sickened by what he just did, turned to his friend, who was now as pale as a sheet. "We need to go."

She didn't respond.

" _Now_!" he stated.

She blinked, her hand over her mouth as she stared at what they both _hoped_ was an unconscious Mr. Kendall. She nodded weakly.

The teen scanned his surroundings, and ran into the halls Intersection, with Amata following shortly. Three gigantic cockroaches were laying on the floor, all with tiny craters on their stiff, brown outer shell. A disgusting, transparent slime was slowly pouring out of them. Mr. Kendall's work, no doubt.

Instead of turning left towards the upper levels, he took a right, towards the Vault's armory, but was stopped dead in his tracks. Another brown insect, as big as his upper body, was creeping towards them with six hairy legs, and two long antennas were sticking out of its tiny head, flailing around.

He changed the grip on his pistol from the barrel to the grip, unsure. While he knew the mechanism down to the tiniest screw, he had never used such a weapon. Unless the toy BB gun counts.

He raised the gun to his eye level, exhaled, and pulled the trigger. Everything was blurry for a second, and he found himself on the floor, with the Roach creeping towards him unharmed. His head hurt three times more than it did a moment ago, and his ears were ringing. He jerked up, pulling up his baton with the other hand and hammered it on the disgusting creature with a moist flap, deforming it.

But it was still twitching.

And crawling towards him.

He hit again.

Now it _only_ twitched.

He hit for the third time, going for the head. It came clean off and the creature finally went limp.

Confused, he pocketed the baton and raised the firearm again. He held both of his hands steady, and squeezed the trigger. There was the much expected ear-shattering blast, and everything went fuzzy again. But this time he managed to see the pistol moving towards him at an alarming velocity before his vision blurred. At least this time he was still on his feet.

He stood there, partly because of the head trauma and partly because he amazed himself with his stupidity. Inexperienced with the firearm, he was never prepared for the recoil, so he ended up hitting himself with the gun.

Twice.

He shook his head and took a few unstable steps, vaguely aware that his utility suit was now sullied with slime and brown bits. He lost count how many times he swore to never drink again.

They were walking for a short while when Amata exclaimed, nearly making him jump out of his skin. "Oh no, Paul!"

He turned to her, irritated. "Jesuz Christ, _don't do that_!" but his expression immediately softened upon seeing her pale and wide eyed expression. "What happened to Paul?"

She shook her head. "Nothing! I.. I hope. He.." Her eyes were scattering around as she tried to make sense of her confused thoughts. "He said he wanted to get up early to take a look at the reactor or something. He might be trapped!"

Raph frowned as he distantly remembered his dark skinned friend saying something among those lines the night before. " _Shit_ ," he muttered. He pulled out the gun by the barrel. He looked at her, stone-faced. "Do you know how to use this?"

She nodded, Eyes wide.

" _Better_ than I do?"

Another scared nod.

"Good. Take this, and go to the bottom level. That's where he should be." and with that he handed it to the girl.

She took it hesitatingly, and Raph jealously noticed she was holding it with a steadier hand than he did. But she still stood there.

"Go!" he ordered, and she sprinted into the hallway. He turned and threw up again as soon as she was out of sight. His throat felt like sand paper at this point.

He walked for a couple more seconds, seeing the Armory's door at the end of the monotonic hall, when Alphonse's voice burst across the Vault's speakers, making him feel like someone was trying to close a metal door on his head.

" _This is the Overseer. I wish to remind you that all residents of Vault 101 are hereby confined to their quarters. Any resident found outside his or her quarters will be dealt with._ _ **Severely.**_ _That is all._ "

Wide- eyed, he ran back into the nearest hall intersection. But Amata was nowhere to be found. " **Em**!"

No response.

" **Amata!** "

Nothing. Only the Vault's alarm echoed through the metallic corridors.

" _Shit_." He muttered. He ran back to the door, quickly tapping the numbers on the consoles. A faint beep and the door opened with its signature hiss.

While security personnel were fortunate enough to have their Pip-boys equipped with radio transmitters in addition to the existing receivers, the rest of the vault's inhabitants didn't share the same luxury. Raph was one of them. And running amuck with only a club wouldn't help Amata. She will have to fend for herself until he geared up.

He hated himself for thinking like that.

* * *

 **Whew! Intense stuff going on there..  
**

 **As you can see, it can't get any worse than Raphael and guns. And the "I don't know how you even manage to change outfits." was just me making fun of video game sense, silly ol' me.**

 **If you review, I promise not to pick your nose when you're sleeping! Tee-hee.**

 **I am a very good english, ya. But still grateful for those who point out my errors..**

 **Thank you for reading, you awesome, awesome people.**

 **An even BIGGER thank you to the awesome people who take their time and review:** **Davywolf, MrVemom, Crimson Commando, ElderScrolls.. *coughs.* Perv. Interesting name. RaidanRam, R** **eddevil, Vampwalker (You found this story on RiotDragon's list? I can't describe in words how awesome that is.), and let's not forget the guy that inspired me to write this in the first place, the allmighty RiotDragon. I am forev'r at thou debt.**

 **Yes, I used a Shakespearean translator to write the last line.. don't tell anyone.**

 **Last but not (even close to be the) least, credits and big thanks to my awesome sister, who endures all of the profanity and violence of the Fallout universe, just so she can help me write a better story.  
You're awesome, sis.**

 **More coming up,  
** **Peace.**


	4. Escape from the vault, Part 2

Spectrum chapter 3- Escape from the Vault, pt.2

The armory was a long, narrow room, with barely enough available space for one person to fit through. Shelved packed with identical pistols, magazines, bullet boxes, batons, holsters and other equipment of the such were on one side, and mannequins stood on the other side. Most of the human shaped statues were bare, with the exception of two that wore black bulletproof vests, with matching boots and gloves that covered the hand from the palm all the way up to the elbow, and a helmet with a transparent face shield.

Raph quickly entered the room, and hammered on the console. The thick metallic object closed.

He kicked off his shoes, as he had no time to open the laces and properly take them off. He put on the thick, shiny boots, slid on a pair of gloves and a vest, tightly strapping it around his body. He put on a special security weapon holster, and took the helmet off of the mannequin, leaving it completely naked as he did, wiped the blood that dripped from his forehead, put on the helmet, and approached the far end of the room as he fastened its straps under his chin.

The Vault had a limited supply of bullets, so only security workers were authorized with the comfort of practicing with a pistol. Raph had spent hours upon hours with his BB gun, but that wasn't nearly the same. That didn't stop him from breaking into the armory and disassembling every single item in the room, though. When boredom hit, no obstacle was too much for his Ingenuity.

At the end of the room was a plain looking safe. Raph skillfully rotated the locking mechanism to the correct numbers and unlocked the door, to reveal a bulky and metallic device laying on the floor of the safe. It had what appeared to be a handle with a button on it at its rear end, and another set of metal rods attached to the handles ends, forming a rectangle.

It had a thicker cube at its opposite end, with a thick wire that started at its front end and disappeared inside it around the middle. The word 'Caution' was painted onto the chassis in yellow letters, and AEP7 was carved into the metal rear in small letters.

Raph grabbed the Laser pistol, and flipped the switch on the side. The weapon immediately began humming as its capacitors were coming to life, energy rushing through the advanced circuitry.

There were also three energy cells in the safe, each contained three high-powered, finger-sized carbon-fiber batteries, strapped together in a small metal ellipse, and a small suitcase, twice the size of an open palm.

Raph grabbed two of the cells and put the suitcase in his backpack. After a moment of thought, he took a few pistols with loaded magazines and inserted them into the backpack as well. He'll have to learn to use those sooner or later. He then opened a small panel on the gun's side, and slid in the third cell. The device immediately responded with somewhat louder humming, and Raph could feel the lever get slightly warmer, which meant it was ready to fire.

The young man, now fully armored and with an advanced weapon in his possession, turned to the door, lowered his face shield, and pressed on the console.

He raised his weapon into firing position and the door opened, disappearing into the ceiling, to reveal a bunch more Radroaches creeping at the end of the corridor. He exhaled, and pulled the trigger, preparing for the worst.

The gun emitted a soft sound that reminded Raph of a short, distant thunder, as those could be heard on the Vault's top level on rare occasions. A weak yet clearly visible red light, a beam, was emitted from the gun's end, and hit near one of the scattering creatures, burning a small crater in the floor. It had no recoil whatsoever.

Raph nodded to himself with ease, his face assuming his usual blank expression. The giant bugs seemed unaware of the danger they were in.

He aimed and tried again, this time hitting one of the creatures, effectively turning half of its body into dust, the transparent material poured out of the remaining half.

He stepped closer with the weapon, raised and fired again, and again. All five threats were easily neutralized, befouling the Vault's floor with their mucus-like liquids.

He calculated the energy cell's capacity, then compared it to the weapon's power draw per shot. He should have at least twenty shots left in the current cell, and about seventy shots total. That is, if the cells hadn't deteriorate too much from years of lack of use.

 _If_.

He sighed as he lowered the gun, and began running through the metallic corridors. It was then he noticed how heavy was everything he was carrying, as every step felt more like a stomp. But there were so many discomforts piling up one on top of the other, that he just didn't care anymore.

He halted by the hall that lead to his room, sent one last grieving glance, and moved on, both physically and mentally.

It wasn't long when he saw a figure coming towards him. He immediately raised his weapon and almost squeezed the trigger when he realized the figure had its arm in the air. _I surrender_ , the armed dweller interpreted.

A few steps closer revealed that the figure wasn't wearing security armor, save for a black leather jacket over a resident's jumpsuit. Butch.

Raph swore. On every other day he would have recognized him the minute Butch have stepped into his sight. The hangover was _really_ getting to him. _Never. F***ing. Again._

The young man angrily raised his facemask. He was ready to give the idiot the lecture of his life when Butch interrupted. "Are you out of your fu-!"

"-You gotta help me!" he pleaded. "My mom's trapped in there with the Radroaches!"

The armed dweller was stunned. Never in his life he had seen the hairdresser so desperate.

"Where?" he demanded.

"In my dorms! Please, hurry!"

They both ran into the room's entrance. Raph barely managed to hear the chatters from outside over the blaring alarm, along with a feminine voice. A cry of pain.

The young man lowered the face shield and entered the room, sharply aware of the fact that his peer did not follow him. The outer room was a mess, broken dishes were scattered across the floor and a vase with flowers was broken and knocked over, with spilled plant soil covering porcelain shards. He entered the room, holstering the gun after realizing that firing it was too much of a risk, and whipped out his melee weapon, which was already sullied with slimy Radroach's fluids.

He opened the door to the bedroom, which made the living room look like heaven. Papers, broken liqueur bottles, and pools of freshly spilled blood were all over the place. A chair was flipped over, the bed's mattress was torn apart.

And in the corner was the source of the blood. Ellen DeLoria, Butch's mother, was crouching in the corner, hands over her head, screaming. Both her suit and the skin underneath were torn in multiple places, her long, blonde hair was messy and stained red, and in her eyes was the expression of a person who stared death in the eye. Three giant cockroaches were leaping at her, tearing more tissue and spilling more blood with every lunge.

Raphael swung the baton at the unaware insects with all the strength he could muster. One creature was squashed immediately, twitching yet immobile. Another two swings neutralized the remaining two, which were still busy assaulting the poor woman. Once they were immobilized, killing them was easy. A single swing to the head promised a quick, painless death to the disgusting abominations.

Ms. DeLoria hesitatingly raised her gaze to look at the armored dweller. "What's going on?" She gasped in a drowsy, confused voice. Along with the smell of blood and Radrocach bowels, Raph managed to catch the strong scent of liquor, coming directly from her.

Butch came up behind him, and helped her up. "We did it! My mom's gonna be okay!" He exclaim as he helped her to the couch, and pulled the surprised dirty dweller into a tight grip. "You're the best friend I ever had, man!"

He pulled away and took off his jacket. "I know it isn't much, but I want you to have my Tunnel Snakes Jacket." He handed it to the dweller.

Raph pushed his hand away. "I don't want your Jacket." he snarled.

Butch's eyes widened, both in shock and offense. "But.. why?"

Raph scoffed. "Because when I'm going to be out there, probably struggling for every breath, I don't want the memories of us fighting, or of you picking on my friend, or of you being an absolute _Ass_ ," he spat the word, "to people, to my friends, to me."

He raised his face shield, to reveal an expression of stone on his features, and locked eyes with the barber. "I understand that you've had it hard over the past years." He glanced towards the drunk women, who seemed oblivious to her multiple injuries, and stared into the empty bedroom, drooling. "You could have talked to me about it. Express your frustrations. And I would have done my best to help. We could have been friends. But instead," His stone like features turned into what could only be described as pure contempt. "You chose to make everyone as miserable as you were." He sighed, sliding the face shield back down. "Keep it. As food for thought." his voice was muffled by the barrier of compressed plastic.

The former bully looked down at the Jacket he was holding, his face showing what Raph hoped were sadness and regret.

He turned his back and walked towards the exit, stopping in front of where the door should have been. "Maybe, if you change your ways, we can become friends in the future." If he will still be alive by then. Raph wasn't sure who he referred to with this thought.

"But for now.." He bit his tongue, barely managing to hold off some more very harsh words. "Goodbye." And he ran back into the monotonic, metallic halls.

He was tired. His head was bleeding for some reason, and the blood burned his left eye. The alarm was hurting his ears and the lights hurt his eyes. The armor was heavy, and everything he did only seemed to make his already head-splitting headache worse. Dad was gone, security was after him, and Paul and Amata were in trouble. Maybe even dead, for all he knew. He cursed himself. There was nothing he could do for Paul, but at least Amata could have been safe if he hadn't been so stupid, sending her to fend for herself against these.. creatures.

For the first time in his life, he felt himself on the verge of tears.

* * *

 **Enter the LAYSAH! (Which by that I mean laser.. yeeeah. Forget I said that.) Vampwalker kinda read my mind there.. Dude, spoilers!**

 **I know, I know. Shorter than usual. But the vault escape is just sooo freakin' long, it would take forever to complete. I just felt I had to upload _something._ So here you go. ^_^**

 **Credits for my sistah (D** **eliberately misspelled)** **for story Beta. Did I mention she's awesome?**

 **If you can point out mistakes in grammar and spelling.. you know the deal.**

 **Thank you all for reading this, it means a LOT. And for the even awesomer people who take their time and review.. You guys are amazing.**

 **More coming up,  
** **Peace.**


	5. Escape from the vault, Part 3

Spectrum chapter 5- Escape from the Vault, pt.3

He tripped over something and fell, the fall making his head feel like it's shattering to pieces. A radroach that seemed to come out of nowhere, was chattering madly near his feet, it's various feet flailing in the air before it managed to filp back on them. Raph turned on his back, pulling out the pistol, and yelled, both out of misery and despair, as the device burned through the insect's skin.

He shook his head. If he wants to get through this, then this is no time for falling apart. He got up, feeling his muscle protest as he did. That was when he noticed he was near the cafeteria's entrance.

The door was open. Beside the overturned tables, fallen chairs, and dishes scattered and broken around the entire room, he could see the body of a woman laying on the floor, with two more roaches, seemingly feeding on it. One of them turned around to face him, flapping its wings.

Raph raised the pistol and pulled the trigger twice, easily evaporating the two creatures. He stepped closer, forcing himself to look at the body. She was beyond recognition, but her hair was short and white. He had no idea who that was, but one thing was for sure, that wasn't Amata. Maybe there's still a chance.

 _Please._

 _Oh_ _ **God**_ _, please._

Forcing back the need to hurl, he left the body where it was.

He felt his lungs shrink, his head throbbed with every heartbeat, and his legs were on fire. But he kept running. He had to. He noticed that it was getting easier to ignore physical discomforts, as he found himself in some sort of a cold, distant state. So he kept on running as a thought about fear from stress fractures vaguely floated in the back of his head.

He sprinted down the stairs to the reactor level, and due to the weight he was carrying, barely made it to the bottom without tripping and rolling over.

Panting madly, he scanned the room with the weapon raised, but there were no roaches.

And Paul was nowhere to be seen, either.

"Paul!" He yelled between pants. Only to be answered by the Vault's alarm. He limped his way to the door and weakly hit the console with his fist. The door opened to reveal the empty shooting range his dad and Jonas made for him for his tenth birthday. It was a slim chance, but he had to make sure.

He took a deep breath. "Paul!"

He limp-sprinted inside and jerked his head around. "PAUL!"

At least no blood, that's a good sign.

It had to be.

The armed dweller turned and sprinted all the way back up the stairs, and on towards the upper level.

He ran past his old classroom. _keep going._

He ran up more stairs. _Keep going._ He felt he couldn't keep running for long. but he had to. _Keep going._

His pace was slowing. His body no longer listened to him.

 _Keep going, dammit!_

He shuffled into the hall which led to the infirmary, muscles screaming for rest, lungs set on fire. Leaning on the nearby wall, he dropped the jumpsuit backpack, and collapsed on the floor. Black dots were scattering around his sight. At least his head didn't hurt anymore. Nothing did.

Painfully slowly, he rose to a sitting position, and opened one of the belt's pouches, taking out a syringe.

He sighed between gasps, staring at the dark brown contents. "Desperate times.." He took off the sterile cover and inserted it into his neck vein, gently pressing on the tube.

The dots disappeared for a moment. His mind felt.. clear.

His eyes widened as the pain hit him again. His head was throbbing, like a giant fist was closing over it with every heartbeat. His lungs were on fire, rapidly expanding and shrinking as they desperately tried to give his body the oxygen it needed.

He breathed rapidly for what felt like hours, then the exhaustion came back as well, hitting him like a train.

His neck felt like it's made of stone, his back muscles were probably trying to detach from his spine, and his legs muscles has grown so tight that for a moment he though his bones are going to snap.

He gently pulled back the syringe, seeing that its tube was halfway up. He injected some into the wrist vein through his suit, emptied the rest into his femoral vein, then threw it away. He sighed in relief as his suffering was eased to some extent. Enough to assume the cold, distant mental state again.

He frowned, trying to recall the last chain of events that led him to develop that mental state in the first place: a few chapters about yoga that he read when trying to relax before the G.O.A.T. Another article about meditation which he experimented with recently, and that persistent.. itch, the one that insists he'd do whatever he was doing at the moment perfectly. Or at least try.

He exhaled. _Forget about Amata, forget about Paul._ _Relax._

Slowly, he felt the pain become foggy, distant. As if someone else's. He rose to his feet, little by little, careful not to recreate the circumstances that brought to his collapse.

He put on the backpack suit and took a few steps until he heard a gas pump coming from the next intersection. He disregarded any form of caution and darted towards it.

Andy, the Vault's Mr. handy robot, was using his flamethrower to roast what used to be radroaches. He was hovering near the infirmary as the immense flames flared, enveloping the remains of the creatures. At the robot's side stood another security officer, using a police baton to chop off the insect's head. The stench was awful.

The armed adolescent unholstered his weapon, and raised it with two hands as he walked towards the two. His shoulders tensed. "Hands where I can see them!" He barked in a no-nonsense tone, his voice muffled by the face-shield.

The officer froze, raising his hands hesitatingly, still holding the metal club. He slowly turned around.

"Drop, the weapon." Raph whispered darkly.

"Wait, Raphael?!" The officer exclaimed, using his free hand to raise his facemask, revealing the friendly face of officer Gomez, "Is that you?" His somewhat rotund face filled with hope.

The young dweller's shoulders relaxed. He lowered the weapon. "You're not going to kill me?"

The officer's eyebrows rose in surprise, even offence. "Heavens no!" He looked around, "Look, I don't know what you're up to and I don't wanna know. Just keep going and I'll pretend I never saw you."

Raph sighed in relief. "Thank you officer. But I need to use the infirmary."

"You don't understand. You have no _Idea_ what will the overseer do when he captures you. You need to go, _now_." The officer's eyes were troubled. "You don't know what they did to Jonas.." he whispered, horrified.

"I know exactly what happened, and I have a pretty good idea what he'll do." The young man said, irritated, as he dropped the distant mental state, which allowed him to ignore sensory input, letting all of his sufferings overwhelm him once again. He weakly leaned on the wall and took off his helmet, revealing his face half covered with partly dried blood. He wiped it with the only clean spot of his thick glove. "But at this rate, I don't know if I can even reach the next door."

The officer looked around once more. The young dweller guessed that the officer was nervous. "Fine. But be quick about it. There's only so much I can do."

Raph nodded thankfully and entered the infirmary's waiting room. Turned tables, broken stands, wrinkled paper files and fallen medical partitions were all over the place. And in the corner, sitting on a fallen locker, was a dark skinned man, with trimmed, black hair, taking care of his injured leg.

"Ah, young sir! How _jolly_ good to see you again!" The hovering robot spoke with his posh British accent from behind the armed dweller, as it floated into the room as well. But Raph ignored him, pacing towards the injured man, still holding the helmet in his hand. "Paul, thank god." He sighed.

"Officer?" The man raised his gaze from his leg, "Raph! What in the world? Why are you wearing security armor? What happened to you?"

"Do you know where Amata is?" The young man ignored his friend's question.

"I don't know, didn't see her. Why?"

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. **FUCK!** " Raph walked in circles, abruptly changing directions.

"Woha! Calm down man! What's wrong?"

"I sent her off alone to find you in the infestation, because we thought you were in trouble. God-dammit!" He threw the helmet at the wall forcefully, and it hit with a snap.

Paul, still sitting, caught his friend's wrist, grabbing his attention. "Chill! Look, I'm sure she's fine. Right now you've got to treat yourself." He gently pulled the anxious dweller down. Gentle for him, that is. For Raph it was impossible to resist the grip, and he sat reluctantly. "Now, what happened to your face?"

Raph sat down, pulling a medical cloth from the nearest fallen stand, ripped the sterile wrapping and cleaned his face with it. "I.. got hit in the head with a ten millimeter.." He mumbled.

"A ten mil'.. bullet?" Paul frowned.

"A pistol." he cringed as the antiseptics in the cloth made his head injury burn. "What happened to _you?_ "

Paul stared at him briefly, then snickered. "I was inspecting the air purification systems when the roaches swarmed the whole freaking room. I don't think I ever ran that fast." He shivered. "Nasty little creatures." He looked at him again. "Also, you smell like crap."

Raph nodded in agreement to both statements. "My dad left the Vault," he mentioned as he kept cleaning, then pulled out another syringe, injecting the whole thing into his femoral vein.

Paul Choked. "He WHAT?!"

Andy drifted to their direction. "The doctor?" the robot clicked his tongue, or at least emitted the same noise with his voice modulator, "I'm afraid you missed him. I believe he's gone topside for a spot of fresh air. Should be back any moment, I'd imagine!"

Raph shook his head at the robot's cluelessness. There's only so much its processor could do. Or maybe it's just a matter of programming?

Paul frowned at the robot and then at Raph, switching gaze between them a couple of times before stopping at Raph. "Can we get back to the VAULT'S DOOR BEING OPENED for a sec?!"

Raph sighed. "Andy, can you get me another Stimpak?" The armored dweller asked, showing the empty syringe to the robot.

"Of course Sah! May I ask why?"

"Because my head hurts, and apparently stimms help." The young man retorted, now irritated.

"Oh. Ho-ho!" The robot chortled warmly. "I would suggest brain disinfection."

Raph and Paul stared at each other, than back at the robot. "A what-now?" Paul asked, not trusting his hearing entirely, as the Vault's irksome alarm was still echoing in the distance.

"Brain disinfection. Opening up that skull of yours and disinfecting it with flames! Eradicates all of those nasty little germs that causes your head to ache."

The armed dweller was blank-faced, while Paul simply stared in horror.

Shivering, Paul turned back to Raph. "Creepy and all, but what is the deal with the Vault's door?"

"Andy, what will you do in case of.. let's say, an ingrown nail?" Raph eyed the robot.

"Why, amputate the leg of course!" Andy replied as if it was the most obvious question on the planet.

"I want my mommy." Paul stared at the floating automaton, only partly joking.

But Raph did not give up so easily. "Food poisoning?"

"Cut open the stomach and let the poison pour out. Such a silly question!"

" _Yiykes._ " Paul shrieked. Raph couldn't help but agree.

"Andy?"

"Yes sah?"

"Don't use your medical abilities. Ever."

The robot seemed unsure."That command requires an administrator's authorization."

Raph now visibly glared at him. "I _am_ the administrator. As the head of the Vault's maintenance, I'm ordering you to disengage all medical functions."

The Mr. handy appeared to be ashamed. Even disappointed. "Yes sah." he turned away and went into the infirmary's treatment room.

The two friends exchanged glances before laughing nervously. "Dodged a bullet there, huh? I swear, one more creepy answer and I would have peed my pants." the dark skinned dweller wiped sweat from his forehead, making Raph snicker. He then looked at Raph. "So your dad has gone.. outside. Wow." He tried a more subtle approach, running a hand over his neck, "And the overseer's okay with that?"

Raph shook his head. "He probably wants me dead. That's why I'm geared up to the bone."

Andy hovered towards them with his claw hand holding another syringe with dark brown liquid. "The Stimpack you requested, Sah." Raph nodded towards the robot and took the tool, injecting half of its contents into the same neck vein from earlier.

Paul shivered at the sight. "So what are you gonna do?"

The young man sighed, gently pulling the needle out. "I'm going to follow my dad."

The engineer blinked. "Wow." he ran a hand down his neck again, "I guess this is goodbye, then?"

Raph put the sterile cover on the Stimpack, pocketing it in his belt. "Yeah." He rose to his feet, offering his friend a hand. "There's medical information in my dad's terminal, stuff he wrote for future doctors. You'll probably need it. The password is four-three-two-one."

Paul raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

The armored teen shrugged. "There's a more complicated password, so I added the easier one."

Paul tilted his head backwards, laughing heartily. "Dude, you're insane."

Raph smiled. "I'm just different." His expression then turned serious again. He picked up the helmet, sliding it back on his head. "I should get going."

"You're my best friend, man." He pulled Raph into a tight hug, and Raph had a hard time not yelping. "Good luck out there."

Raph patted on his friend's back, then pulled back from the embrace with an almost invisible relief. "Likewise." He slid his face-shield back down, walking towards the door. "Best of luck, _idiot_."

Paul chuckled. " _Nerd_."

He picked up the Improvised backpack as officer Gomez was walking towards him. "Remember, I never saw you here." The officer eyed him.

The armed dweller nodded, and turned his back to the man, pacing towards the unknown.

He ran up the stairs, his mind now a blank. Only the distant pain, exhaustion and the rush to find Amata was in his head.

He went through another door, vaguely wondering why does the vault's corridor needs to have doors in it in the first place. He stopped in his tracks when he heard talking.

"Don't you see? this is our only chance. We're getting out of here, just like the doctor. I'm not gonna let anyone stop us." he heard the confident voice of a man. Then he heard running.

"Tom! be careful!" cried another voice, a woman.

"It's me, tom! Just let me through!" Tom yelled, and gunfires were heard a moment later.

Raph stepped into the large atrium. Inside the massive room stood a wide-eyed Marry Holden, who had two hands on her mouth in a worried, maybe frightened expression. Near the end of the room he saw her husband, Tom Holden, filled with bullet wounds and twitching on the floor, choking on blood that was pouring out of his mouth.

"Tom, NO!" the woman screamed and ran toward her husband. A few more deafening blasts was heard, and the woman yelped before collapsing near her dying spouse, red stains spreading across her suit as well.

Raph, wide eyed, or at least his version of it, quickly processed the information as he barely managed to hold back the need to vomit. He dropped his back pack with a gentle _thump_ and paced towards the end of the room, where there was another small hall leading to yet another closed door. In front of the door stood two security guards, holding their smoking guns with both hands.

 _Okay, you are now playing a security goon who had no idea you're supposed to freaking_ _ **kill other vault members**_ _._ "What happened here!?" he demanded, quickly pacing towards the two.

One of the officers gave him derisive look. "Overseer's orders, unless you have something to say..?" he suggested threateningly with a thick voice, while the other officer switched his gaze between Raph and his colleague, a seemingly troubled expression on his features.

The teen frowned, taking one step back, standing at the entrance of the small hall, near the now dead bodies. "No."

The officer raised an eyebrow. "Good." he then raised his pip-boy, pressing on the device. "God-man, this is twenty four."

" _Twenty four this is god-man, proceed_." Alphonse's voice emerged from the machine. Raph couldn't help but roll his eyes internally. The man was, by all means, a control freak.

"Two more residents tried to cause an uproar, twenty-one and me upper handed the situation." the officer informed in a businesslike tone, while his colleague stared at the bodies. He seemed like he could use a rest, a very long one.

"Two _more_?" Raphael inclined, his voice turning darker than the cold-blooded murder he witnessed a moment ago. "Did you kill other people too?"

The officer examined him with equanimity. "What is that?" he gestured towards the high-tech weapon Raph was holding. "I don't recall hearing orders to use the A-7."

"That is.. I was assigned to..." he paused. "Uh.." **_Think_** **!** "I needed the extra firepower to deal with the heart of the.." he made a gesture with his fingers that vaguely resembled insect's feet. "Infestation."

"Uh-huh," the officer eyed him. "let's assume that my Pip-boy momentarily malfunctioned and I didn't hear that order- Where is your Pip-boy?!" the man suddenly demanded, then raised his arm once again and pressed on the radio's button. Raph quickly aimed his weapon and pressed the trigger. But nothing happened.

"God-man, this is twenty-" the guard stopped in mid sentence as he heard the weapon.. beep, staring at the dweller.

They stared at each other, while the insecure officer switched his gaze between them in an awkward moment of silence before Raph hid behind the wall just as the guard raised his own weapon to fire.

 _Perfect timing_. Raph angrily thought as he opened the magazine slot at the back of the pistol and flipped it upside-down, causing the depleted energy cell to fall, pulled out the second, slid it in and forcefully hit the open slot with his wrist, closing it. The device hummed back to life.

"He's getting away, after him!" the officer yelled, resulting in the insecure officer appearing from behind the corner.

Raph, startled, accidently pressed the trigger as he fell on his rear, causing it to obliterate the man's vest and wound him while making the sound of a distant thunder. Quickly recovering, he deliberately fired two more times, taking advantage of the officer's surprise and creating a gap where his chest was a moment ago. The officer managed to squeeze his own trigger, but failed to aim, and the bullet ricocheted to the ceiling. He collapsed at the teenager's feet.

"Gah!" Raph silently yelped as he jerked back a few feet, still on his rear.

"Die, you bastard!" the second officer's voice was heard, and Raph saw his hand with the gun peeking from around the corner, while the rest of the officer's body was hidden. The teen quickly fired at his assailant, which caused him to jerk his hand back behind the wall. But a sudden sharp pain in his shoulder, along with the smell of blood, was ominous.

He realized that at this pace, lacking the proper training for a gunfight, his fate will be similar to the Holdens. He was dead either way, so might as well die fighting.

Yelling madly, he ignored the sharp pain in his shoulder. With a leveled gun, he fired blindly as he stepped towards his opponent's cover, quickly locking his gaze upon the cold blood murderer, and fired.

And fired.

And fired.

He collapsed on the floor, a pile of limbs and blood. His head felt like the entire vault has collapsed on it, and the rest of his body felt like it had knifes stuck in him in odd angles. His ears were ringing, and the smell of burned flesh was sickening. He weakly coughed blood. _I'm a mechanic._ He wheezed. _Not a fighter._

" _Twenty-four, this is god-man. What happened?_ "

He knew he needed to move in order to treat himself, but he felt so weak... so tired...

 _Jonas is dead. Dad's gone, probably dead. Amata couldn't be in much better shape. Life in the vault would never be the same. I killed people. So cold... is death such a terrible option?_ He pondered as he stared at the ceiling.

 _No, I've gotta keep going._ _I need to get out of here. I need to survive. Because..._ His mind felt like it was filled with feathers, and he failed to notice as his lids were slowly closing. _Because dad owes me answers._

 _Actually, I don't really care anymore._ He could feel his consciousness slipping away. He laid there. Another motionless, bleeding body among others.

 ** _No!_** _Can't let this happen, Amata is in danger! Maybe dad is in danger too, somewhere out there! They need me, they need my help!_

Raph sharply opened his eyes. Groaning, he rolled onto his stomach and painfully crawled towards his backpack, leaving trails of blood on the floor as he did.

It was torture.

Shoving his hand inside the tied jumpsuit, he pulled out what seemed to be a glove with various cords and electric circuitry built into it, connecting to a metallic round on the center of the palm, and to a button on its back.

He wore it and pressed the button which was now on the back of his palm, and pressed it against his wounded shoulder. He screamed.

" _Twenty four, respond!_ "

Looking at the glove, there was now a blood-stained bullet attached to the metallic round in his palm. He pressed on the button again, and the bullet fell to the floor with a metallic chime, sprinkling the floor with tiny red drops. Reactivating the magnet, he repeated the process with the rest of his arm, his other arm, and his leg, screaming every time he did.

At the end of this painful process his vision was getting blurry.

He attempted to sit up, basically throwing himself into a sitting position, and grabbed the stimpacks in his pocket. He injected each one of the three he managed to pull out, one for each wounded limb.

 _I just killed someone._ He thought with remorse. _I just killed two people._

He sat there, shaking and gasping as he felt the soothing effect of the substance. He pulled out the antiseptic wipes and cleaned his wounds, barely holding back the sobs of pain that escaped his throat.

Tossing the used towels aside, he pulled some bandages and applied them to his multiple wounds, not before tearing his suit to make room for the bandaging.

He weakly rose to his feet, puting the glove-magnet back in the backpack and taking it with him. He felt bad. very bad. But using his distant mental state, the _void_ , he managed to walk.

" **Twenty four!** " Alphonse's voice erupted once again from the dead officer's device. Shooting it was tempting, but it was a waste of ammo. Raph sighed, toddled towards the dead man, which was now just a pile of limbs and blood, and turned off his Pip-boy.

The door the officers were guarding was locked. With no accessible panel, he was forced to take the long route. The atrium itself had four doors in it. The one he came from, two locked rooms with windows near their door, and another that read "Upper Level" that was partially open, as a locker was preventing it from closing properly, revealing a staircase.

 _Thanks, dad._

Slowly and painfully, he climbed the dirty stairs, which were filled with radroaches' corpses, gritting his teeth harder with every step.

He entered the upper part of the atrium, which was identical to the lower part except there were missing parts of the floor, surrounded with railing, that allowed view of the lower floor.

"You! This is your fault!" in one of the windows stood a man in his forties. He was wearing a baseball cap, and had a moustache with a goatee. "You and your stupid father! He had to go and mess things up for everybody!"

Raphael remembered his father glaring at him. He entered their room after a long day. He was exhausted and irritated, and Raph, being the oblivious kid he was, started bombarding him with endless questions.

He glared at the man, and it worked wonders. Looking like he just walked out of a horror film and having a energy weapon in his hand also helped.

He entered the vault's server room, seeing another two bodies laying on the floor. His stomach twisted when he saw Floyd, his engineering teacher. His bold head was full of cuts and his glasses were broken. The floor around him was littered with more radroaches corpses, an officer's corpse, and another roach which was dying.

Raph stepped on the abomination's head, which was squashed with a crunch. And stood there, staring into the empty space.

 _Amata._ He reminded himself. And kept on going.

That's when he heard her scream. He ran.

Sort of.

* * *

 **It's been long, I know. The next part of this chapter Would be uploaded in a few weeks, then another three-four month wait. Sorry 'bout that, but I barely have time to breath** **, not to mention write** **.** **Right now** **I'm writing on account of my sleep.**

 **English is not my main language.. you know the drill.**

 **Tried my best to add humor to this dark episode, I'd like your opinion to know how much I've succeded.**

 **Credit for my sister for proofreading and being grossed out from the gore X-P.**

 **Thank you all for not giving up on me although I'm uploading slower than a commodore 64 (A really old computer.) (Sorry Starfalls,** **YamiSlade.** **)**

 **Gigantic thank-you to the loyal readers (vampwalker, RiotDragon,** **YamiSlade...)**

 **R &R**

 **Peace!**


	6. Escape from the vault, Part 4

Spectrum chapter 6- Escape from the Vault, pt.4: Goodbye

"Be reasonable, Amata. Officer Mack may enjoy this, but I don't." Alphonse's light-hearted voice boiled his blood. "Just tell us where to find your friend so we can _talk_ to him."

He felt a knot in his stomach. Through the window Raph could see his friend tied to a chair, her ponytail messy, her suit ruffled where she was hit and tears running down her face. Her cheek was bruised red. In front of her, with their backs to him, stood her father, and another security officer, with a security Baton in his hand.

The teen dweller hammered on the console. "Don't you DARE move!" he yelled as the metallic door retracted into the ceiling with a hiss, pointing the energy gun at the two men.

"You!" he aimed the pistol at the overseer, which was glaring death at the teen. "Untie her!"

Alphonse growled in frustration as he obeyed, while the mean-faced officer's hand twitched. Raph answered the death glare with one of his own. "One more twitch and your fate will be the same as 'Twenty-four'. Hands in the air. Do you have hand cuffs?" Asked the armed teen.

Officer Mack frowned. "What?"

"Don't play games with me!" Raph shot the officer in the leg, who in response fell on one knee, screaming in agony as the red beam left his femur bone exposed. Amata gasped. "Do you have the fucking cuffs or not?!"

"Go to hell." The man gritted, panting heavily.

Raph snorted. "Take his cuffs and tie him." He motioned with his head to Amata, who still had tear trails on her face. She in response took the shackles that had held her tied, which were now in her father's hand, and tied the officer.

The grey haired man spoke. "You're already in enough trouble as it is. Don't make it worse for yourself."

Raph eyed him, and the gray haired man took a step back. Raph pondered how useful can his glare be.

"You had your men kill Tom, Mary, Jonas," Raph raised a finger for every name. "You tortured your own daughter!" he gestured with his arm " **My** best friend," He pounded on his chest. "Give me one good reason not to kill you!"

"They were probably crazed with stress. I must place the good of the vault above everything, Even my own paternal feelings!"

"How the **fuck** torturing your own daughter is the 'good of the Vault'?" Raph pulled out a second gun and pointed it at the overseer as he walked towards him, while keeping his energy weapon at the officer.

Mack, who saw his opportunity, tried to leap at the teen dweller, who, in response, vaporized half of his neck with a red beam. Raph kept staring at Alphonse, mainly to avoid the horrible sight.

The older man looked in horror as his personal guard was choking on his own blood, then back at Raph, who stared at him with an indifferent expression. "Fine, you win! I give you my word Amata will not suffer further because of your actions. If you really do care for Amata," He changed his tone, to a more imploring one. "You will see how dangerous your father's actions were. There's no need to join your father as a traitor to the Vault."

Raph pushed the 10mm pistol against the overseer's forehead, which made the older man stumble and fall on his rear, rubbing his forehead. "If you say another word about my dad you will end up like the rest of your men." he threatened quietly. "I killed those two men because I didn't have a choice, out of self defense. Not because I have something against the Vault or whatever bullshit you have told yourself. Am I clear?" He emphasized it with another 'gentle' Jab to the overseer's forehead.

"Yes! for the love of god yes!" the man exclaimed, staring at the gun's end.

"Good. You will stay here and let me walk out of the vault peacefully. Otherwise.." he paused, thinking.

 _I'm really bad at this_.

He turned to leave the room, Amata following his footsteps. He hammered on the "open" button of the console as soon as she turned up at his side, then entered a combination of numbers, and the dials turned red, effectively locking the old man inside.

Looking through the window he could see the grey-haired man had a 'I could choke you right now' expression on his face.

Raph assumed he was angry.

They both walked in silence. After his display of violence, Amata didn't know what to say. She never saw that side of him, and neither did he. knowing him, she could spot the almost invisible wince with every step. He had bandages on both of his hands, and on his leg, and they, along with his suit, were bloodstained.

Just when he thought he saw his share of death for the day, he came across Jonas. Right in front of the overseer's office.

Amata put her hand on his non-bandaged shoulder, squeezing gently. He rested his palm on top of her, and kept on walking, hacking the door's console.

While he walked into the office, Amata notice that the dead scientist was holding a holotape.

The office was a neat, large room. A sofa stood near the entrance, two lockers were in the corner, a map of the Vault on the wall, displaying various lights indicating the vault equipment's condition. But Raph only noticed the big table in the center, which had a computer screen behind it. He easily hacked it, running his fingers with dizzying swiftness across the keyboard, then chose the option "Open overseer's tunnel."

He heard hydraulics kicking in and turned around to see the table being lifted along with a portion of the floor, revealing stairs underneath. He weakly paced there, barely noticing that Amata quickly paced to catch up with him.

They found themselves in a long, rusty hallway filled with dust, which ended with a wall and a switch.

It was quiet, as the vault's alarm didn't reach there.

Amata pressed on the switch, which made a part of the wall retract into the floor, revealing a side entrance to the vault's gate.

Raph stumbled towards the console that was in the middle of the room, and pulled down the lever. There it was again, that annoying alarm, along with flashing yellow lights.

A robotic arm descended from the relatively high ceiling and attached itself to the gigantic metal gear-shape that was embedded into the wall. It pulled the gate back with a loud screech which had Raph covering his ears, as two hundred years of lack of usage were more than enough for the whole thing to gather rust. It rolled aside.

"My god.." Amata whispered.

That was it. The vault's entrance.

They turned to look in each other's eyes.

"Come with me."

"I can't. I'm the only one who has a chance of talking some sense into my father."

"Are you serious? He had his men kill innocent people, blamed me for it, and had you … **tortured** , goddammit, to find out my whereabouts. And the vault is _not_ that big!"

"I'm sorry… I just.. can't."

"Amata, he's insane."

It hurt her to see the suffering on his features. She hugged him.

"I guess this is goodbye?" she half-asked, as her cheek rested on his good shoulder.

"I hope not."

She giggled. "Me neither. But staying..."

 _Is not an option._

There was a moment of silence, as they enjoyed their probably last moments together.

"I know."

A few minutes later which felt like moments, they broke their embrace.

They were silent, as words weren't required. They knew what they were feeling, growing as siblings from day one.

 _I'll miss you_.

* * *

 **Just a cliffhanger.. err, un-hanger, for you guys. The last parts were really fun to write.**

 **Finally out of that goddamn Vault!**

 **R &R!  
**

 **Peace.**


	7. Out of the box

Spectrum chapter 7- Out of the box.

He knew it was time to go. Mostly because of the security guard that could be heard from behind the main door. "I need this door open, now!" he yelled into his Pip-boy radio.

Raph quickly made the math. Once the officer would gain access to the entrance room, the only way to stop him would be badly hurting him.

So he broke gaze with Amata, and turned towards the giant gear-shaped hole in the wall.

"Get this door open, now!" The guard hammered on the door. Amata looked at the main door behind her, where the guard was yelling and hammering, and back at the Vault's entrance, where her blood-stained best friend was standing. The gear-shaped gate was slowly rolling back to place.

"Wait, Raph!" She yelled, sprinting to the door.

Raph turned around to see his best friend running towards the gate, her raven black hair flailing behind, and the main door behind her opening, with a security guard bursting it open.

The gate was slowing down with a horrible screech.

Amata looked at the guard, and back at the gate. The space that was left was too small for her to fit through.

Thinking quickly, she pulled out the holodisk and threw it through the tight space, just in time for him to catch.

"It's from your father!" She yelled, barely audible over the sound of the screeching and the Vault's alarm.

The gate rolled in and blocked his view, just as he managed to see the guard sprinting towards Amata. The last thing was her face. She was scared.

He saw tears.

Wide eyed, he yelled, hammering on the gate just as it slid back into its socket, seemingly fusing with the wall.

Before the gate was sealed completely, he managed to hear a gunshot. Then everything went quiet. And dark.

Desperate, he looked around, running his gaze across the dark room with sharp movements. His eyes laid on the only object that kept the room from going pitch black. A console that was standing next to the gate, which consisted of two small lights, red and green, above a lever.

Franticly, he lunged at the device, pulling down the lever with brute force.

After an effort that left him bushed, he managed to pull down the piece of rust which functioned as a lever. The red light flickered.

Then turned off, leaving him staring at absolute darkness.

It was only then he realized how dark the room actually was.

He pulled out the 10mm pistol, slid the magazine out, pocketed it, then cocked the gun.

The weapon ejected the bullet sideways, making room for another. But with no magazine inserted, it remained empty.

Now, with the risk of shooting himself out of the way, the blood stained teen used the gun to hammer the console, holding the gun from the barrel. After a few swings that felt worse than moving a mountain, the console was knocked loose, revealing an entanglement of wires. Any average person would have been taken aback by the sight. But for him it was nothing but a simple, sophisticated puzzle, and he easily figured what he was looking for.

He ripped off the edges of three wires and connected them together. The green light on the console flickered momentarily as the teen stared at it impatiently.

Then it burned out.

He fell to his knees.

Even if she was okay, and that is a big ' _if_ ', he would never be able to see her again.

Growing up in the Vault, which wasn't much larger than a small town, the only reason he wasn't able to see anyone is if they were dead.

Mere minutes before, he was on the verge of tears. Now, for the first time in his life, he cried.

Amata is dead. Paul is dead. He will never see them again.

He felt a bump under his knee. But he didn't want to move.

He couldn't move.

Forcing himself to send a hand down, he lifted the item Amata threw at him in their last moment together.

From the feeling of the flat, square shaped device he could recognize the holodisk. A device that was used to store files in a mobile, lightweight solution.

With his experience he recognized the old model, which was usually painted black.

He searched his pockets and took out his flat, rectangular pip-device, and pressed it against the holotape's port.

" _Loading_ " was briefly flashing, then the screen displayed the words "External storage" at the top in green letters, and below it a file named "For Raphael."

He recognized the icon, marking the file as an audio file. He highlighted it and pressed "Run".

The words on the screen were replaced by a progress bar, filling up slowly as the message was playing.

" _Hold on Jonas, I need to record this first._ " Raph's mind begun racing as he heard his old man's voice.

" _I.. don't really know how to tell you this. I hope you'll understand, but I know you might be angry. I thought about it for a long time, but in the end… I decided it was best for you not to know."_ The recording sighed. _"So many things could have gone wrong, and there's really no telling how the Overseer will react when he finds out. It's best if he can blame everything on me."_ He sounded pleading, even apologizing.

 _"Obviously, you already know that I'm gone. It was something I needed to do. You're an adult now. You're ready to be on your own. Maybe someday, things will change and we can see each other again. I can't tell you why I left or where I'm going. I **don't** want you to follow me. God knows life in the Vault isn't perfect, but at least you'll be safe."_ Raph humped inaudibly.

 _"Just knowing that will be enough to keep me going."_

 _Dad, you're an idiot._

 _"Don't mean to rush you, Doc, but I'd feel better if we got this over with."_ Jonas's voice was heard. Raph's heart skipped a beat before he realized it was from the recording.

James from the recording sighed. " _Okay. Go ahead."_ He mumbled. _"Goodbye. I love you._ "

Raphael laid down, dropping the device on the ground. Somewhere, between his brain and his body, a vortex was created. And that vortex sucked into it every bit of information his body and his brain were trying to commune with each other.

He laid on the floor, staring at the ceiling in the pitch black surroundings.

After hours, maybe days, he managed to close his eyes, and after a few hours more, he fell asleep.

* * *

He woke up, having lost sense of time.

He simply opened his eyes, staring once again. He didn't know how long it was until some far corner of his brain decided it had enough.

 _Sit up._ It commanded. He obeyed.

 _Eat._

Searching in the dark, he slowly reached into his jumpsuit backpack, and took out a survival meal, tearing the wrapping. He tried to take a bite, but something was in his way.

 _You'll need to lift the face shield for that._

After lifting the helmet's shielding, he slowly ate, mechanically chewing bite after bite.

 _Don't lose the crumbs, you need every bit of it._

He put one hand below his meal, catching the falling crumbs.

He swallowed the last bite.

 _The crumbs._

He tossed the crumbs into his mouth.

 _Drink._

He took out a bottle of water, gulping it down. He was amazingly thirsty.

 _Slow down._

He obeyed.

 _Stretch._

Dropping the empty bottle, he begun the familiar routine which he used to do before and after training, systematically moving from neck, to shoulders, chest, hands, stomach, and legs.

 _The injuries are most important._

He stared, gazing into the darkness with dead eyes.

 _Limbs._

He repeated the exercises in his arms and legs, stretching slower and longer for each  
exercise.

 _Rest._

He laid down on his back, closing his eyes.

The helmet's padding was surprisingly comfortable.

* * *

He woke up again.

He stared for a few moments, before some distant part of his brain decided it had enough.

 _Sit up._ It commanded.

He obeyed.

 _Eat._

* * *

He opened his eyes, having vaguely remembered what happened before he ended up inside this cave.

At least, he assumed it was a cave, judging by the feeling of... something that was definitely not the Vault's floor.

He fiddled with his pocket until he got hold of his pip-boy, held up against his face, went to settings, and maxed 'screen brightnes'.

At first his eyes were full with tears, as the light was blinding compared to the darkness he became so accustomed to. But a few minutes passed, and he still felt blinded.

That's when he realized the pip-boy's light was facing the wrong way.

Self-conscious, he turned the device around to finally get a look at the cave. He was immediately startled.

The floor, walls and ceiling of the cave were rocky, dusty and non- symmetrical whatsoever.

But instead of finding himself going nuts over the litter, or fascinated by the nature of the cave's build, what caught his eyes was a skeleton.

Several skeletons.

They were laying on the floor, in poses which clearly suggested they did not have a peaceful death.

He stared at the skeletons, feeling the will to live leaving him once again.

He was about to spend the remaining of his existence staring when the distant corner of his mind snapped.

 _Enough!_

He shook his head until he got dizzy, as if trying to get rid of some hideous aura.

 _Dad's out there, and whatever happens, I need to stay alive. This stupidity ends **now**!_

He breathed deeply, thinking about his next steps.

 _Evaluate: situation, surroundings, equipment._

Nauseated, he inspected the crumbling bodies.

Some of them were holding signs saying " _Let us in, motherfuckers_!" And " _We're dying, assholes!_ "

Bodies of the unfortunate. Probably people who didn't have the luxury of having a Vault reserved for them when the bombs hit, Unlike his great-great-great-great-great grandfather who was so high up in the family tree that Raph never even heard of him.

He inspected the narrow cave, which was actually more of a tunnel, connecting between the Vault's gate, and a door leading to the outside world. Boulders covered by earth were bulking out of the tunnel's… Walls. He found himself hypnotized, having seen actual stone for the first time in his life. So complex, so…

 _Fascinating, yes. Relevant, no._

Shaking his head once again, He pulled out his energy weapon from its holster, just to find he left it on the entire time.

 _Shouldn't have thrown the empty energy cell._ He frowned.

One hand holding the weapon, and the other lighting the way using the Pip-boy. He stepped toward the rotten, wooden door.

He took a deep breath, and opened it.

He quickly closed it again, cowering from the inferno which he assumed was sunlight. Comparing the Pip-boy's light to it was like comparing a germ to the entire earth. Respectively.

So he took off his helmet, realizing he had it on the entire time, and set it down between the door and the wall, preventing it from closing entirely, and letting some of the… sunlight, pour in.

He winced, forcing himself to look at the light. It took about half an hour before his vision was passable.

He turned to the inside of the cave, where his jumpsuit backpack laid.

He took off the armored vest, and laid it spread on the floor next to the bag. He felt relieved.

He took the backpack, and emptied its contents on the open vest.

Two 10mm pistols, three magazines, six boxes of 10mm ammo, Palm-sized briefcase, a few stimpacks, a small first aid kit, the magnet glove , two bottles of water, a tooth brush, and one last survival meal.

After cleaning his wounds and replacing the bandages, he packed his belongings.

Reluctantly, and with an inaudible sigh, he wore his vest.

He fiddled with the device, activating the recording function.

"Survival log, entry one. August.." He skimmed the device's screen, "Twenty-one, twenty-two seventy-seven. I've been barely conscious for three days. I assume from the combination of massive body trauma, blood loss, and combat stress. No entrance back to the Vault, which leaves me with two options: slowly starve to death, or leave the Vault behind, possibly jumping into a quicker death."

He checked his Pip-boy, going over the _Vitals_ menu as the device kept on recording. "I had time to heal, so aside from a minor blood loss, everything seems to be in order. End entry."

He pocketed the device, as it saved the file.

He stepped toward the entrance, picked his helmet and put it on, and opened the door completely.

He looked back, at the Vault's entrance, where the gear gate was embedded into a metal wall, took a deep breath, and left the cave.

Squinting, he found himself astonished by the vast view, his mind having trouble comprehending the large field of vision.

He also felt his stomach sink. The whole area was burned to the ground. Nothing more than a desert. A wasteland. Two hundred years of radiation fallout has left its mark.

Humanity at its lowest, if there are any humans left.

The ground was spreading farther than his eyes could see. He managed to spot broken street lamps in the distance, along with crumbling buildings in the horizon. But closer to him, the terrain was mostly unconstructed, aside from a broken asphalt road.

He started walking down the hill, and quickly slipped, falling to his rear. The rocky ground was nothing like the Vault's metallic floors, and the hill was nowhere near resembling a staircase.

Unstable, he managed to stand up once again, this time making a couple of steps before tripping again, this time landing on his stomach.

 _Baby steps_.

He stood up, taking a careful step, trying to figure out the earthy floor he was standing on. It was painfully slow, but at least he didn't fall this time. But once he finished with the hill, the Asphalt road was much easier to walk on.

He strolled uphill on the half buried Asphalt for a while when he heard it.

At first it was faint, from a few miles away, but the wasteland was quieter then a cemetery. He pulled out his laser gun, flipping it on.

The source for the noise was getting closer, making Raph able to distinguish it as mechanics.

A few nerve-wrecking moments passed, then he saw it. On the hill, near a pile of cement pieces, three towering figures were strolling down, each of them holding what seemed to be a large version of his laser gun, with the exception of the third character, which was holding a gigantic, six-barreled Minigun.

They were wide, metallic, humanoid figures. The head had two pipes coming out from its front which disappeared behind it, and where the eyes should have been there was a glass-like substance that reflected light. Huge and bulky arms and legs were attached to a rather monstrous torso, and by the sounds it made, Raph assumed they were heavily motorized. They had to be, otherwise that behemoth of a.. robot? Shouldn't be able to move.

They were raising small dust clouds with every step.

All three beings were black with red markings all over them. They walked past him, not even bothering to give him a second look.

"Excuse me?" He spoke unsurely.

They kept on walking.

He cleared his throat. " _Excuse me_!"

One of the behemoths turned to him, effortlessly holding the gigantic Minigun over his shoulders. " _What_?" It spat in a mechanized voice.

Raph took half a step back, intimidated by the creature's size, towering two heads above him.

But the way it spoke, confirmed Raph's speculations. It was a human, or at least possessed human traits. Even if it wasn't the best ones.

For some reason he found that fact very mind-settling.

"Where's the nearest town?" He asked curiously.

 _If that's even a thing anymore._

It made a few steps, making Raph wonder how something so heavy can be so quick.

It stared at him for a couple of seconds, having the Lone Wanderer wondering if he was supposed to show fear.

Before walking back to its group, the metal man raised his free hand, pointing at a general direction. "Megaton's this way."

* * *

 **Author notes: Once I decided to skip the parts where I need to simultaneously play the game to write, Iv'e actually been writing a lot. But since I'm barely home, I can't play, thus, I can't gap over the missing parts (Did I say that correctly?). Hopefully I'll get around it within the next month. Peace!**


	8. Out of the blue, Part 1

_Survival log, 21.8.2277._

 _Dad used to say "nothing is impossible".  
Well, I never thought I'd be able to kill, and back in the Vault I killed two people. I witnessed four deaths. Is Mr. Kendall dead? that would make it five._

 _After the Vault occurrences, I've been barely conscious for three days. I assume from the combination of massive body trauma, blood loss, and combat stress. No entrance back to the Vault, which leaves me with two options: starve, or leave the Vault behind, possibly jumping into a quicker death._

 _The Vault is located in a desert. Everything I see is ruins. So many ruined buildings. When the nuclear bombs hit the entire globe, my ancestors were lucky enough to have a place reserved for them in a Vault,_ _ **and**_ _manage to get there in time. From what I read, the vast majority of the human population weren't as lucky. It's not hard to imagine what happened to them. So much death. What a waste._

 _I have stumbled across a group of large humanoid robots, which gave me the general direction of a place called 'Megaton'._

 _I always knew that the Vault is small compared to the rest of the world. I could never imagine what an understatement it was._

 _(Laughter)_

 _To say it was an understatement is an understatement. I have been walking for hours. I can't see the Vault anymore._

 _For comparison, walking inside the Vault from one end to another takes less than twenty minutes._

 _Imagine how embarrassing it would be if someone found me here dead, with only a single survival log entry._

 _(Bitter laughter)_

* * *

Spectrum chapter 4 - Out Of The Blue, Pt.1: Megaton.

After a few hours of walking in the sun, Raph finally decided he was fed up. Once he grown accustomed to it, the sunlight made his vision sharper than it ever was in the Vault, being able to see the tiniest details of his destroyed surroundings. But it felt like walking inside an active stove.

Also, all he could see with his newfound vision was his destroyed surroundings.

The concrete road he was walking on was uneven, cracked, littered, and only portions of it were above the ground. Piles of broken cement and house skeletons were a common sight, along with vehicle corpses. The detailed rust, broken windshields and dented metalwork were a major contrast to the slick, colorful vehicles he seen in the Vault's libraries. He found it depressing.

It was getting on his nerves when he finally managed to catch the glimpse of a huge, sparkling object on the horizon, in the direction which the robot pointed him to. It was taking far longer than he presumed, as he still wasn't used to see that far, but the hope of finally finding a settlement with humans in it kept him going. It surprised him to find out how much he missed company.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, something lunged at him, snarling madly, with the dweller pushing it back just enough to avoid having his face chewed on.

"Gah!" He fell on his back, pushing the creature off of him.

From the glimpse Raph caught he managed to see that it was about half his size, with large front teeth, and its skin had a sickish shade of pink.

He rolled to his side as the mutated animal lunged again. Using the momentum from the roll he rose to his feet and pulled out the laser pistol, firing once and mutilating the animal's rear leg.

The creature screeched, turning to him, and Raph shot it again, this time hitting its face.  
It fell to the ground, screeching and squirming so fast that it was still a blur for the armed teen. But it didn't manage to stand up, giving Raph the opportunity to get rid of it without wasting ammunition.

So he whipped out his nightstick, and hit. And again. And again. The creature's screams were loud and nauseating, but after seeing Officer Mack choke on his own blood, he found the creature's sufferings… insignificant.

At the end of it he was exhausted, and the least clean he's been his entire life. He just noticed he lost his sense of smell.

Panting, he inspected the creature. It was pink, with hairless wrinkly skin, which was full of sunburns and other deformities. It had four palm sized teeth bulking out, two above its mouth and two beneath, giving the creature monstrous apparel. It reminded Raph of a molerat.

A giant, vicious, revoltingly deformed Molerat.

Raph sighed. He missed home, he missed having people around. He missed his dad, and he especially missed Paul and Amata. The loneliness was getting heavy.

After what seemed like an eternity, the Lone Wanderer reached the object he saw in the horizon. Numerous plates, which were barely recognizable as parts of cars, planes, and other objects he couldn't name were welded together to a metal dome, shielding god-knows-what.

Raph stared in awe. While at first glance the dome seemed to be randomly pieced together, he saw a work of art. Every piece, every welding was well thought through, as the plates were perfectly overlapping each other, taking advantage of every bit of material, with the only holes were ones created by rust.

Cautiously, he strolled down the hill, barely holding his grasp on the unconsolidated ground. Bits of earth and tiny stones were rolling down with every step as his combat boots sunk into the sand-like surface.

With boots full of earth, he approached the metal structure. It was enormous, completely filling his sight. Five, maybe six times his height, and wide enough to fit at least half of the Vault inside.

Laying his hand on the brown dotted surface, admiring the coarse metalwork, his sensitive touch picked up gentle vibrations.

Four days ago, he would kill to have someone like whoever built this dome in the Vault. And then he had to kill anyway. Go figure.

He put his ear to the plate, picking up chatter from inside. People. But there was no visible entrance. Quickly concluding no one from inside could hear him, he began surrounding the dome.

Until he reached the crossed airplane wings which he assumed were the entrance, the sun had already began to set.

The giant yellow star was now a brilliant shade of red, gradually dying the sky around it in bright red as well. Under normal circumstances, he would have stopped to admire the sight, if he wasn't so busy with trying to keep himself alive. And unnerved with the amount of killing he had to do lately.

At the entrance stood a robot Raph had only read about. A narrow, oval shaped torso, with thin limbs attached. Each joint was a bulky sphere, giving the faint sensation of a skeleton. The hands ended with three finger sized claws each, and its legs ended with sharp, tear - shaped feet.

The head was a transparent sphere, containing three camera lens, each facing a different direction.

The teen stared, shocked to see a machine this old in a perfect working order. He remembered reading about the Protectron model, but seeing one in real life is a whole other story.

He shook his head. _Survival, remember? Focus._

The upper half of the machine turned ninety degrees to face him. Only the upper half. Raph felt somewhat nauseated by the sight before he reminded himself that it's a machine. "Welcome, to, mega-ton. The bomb, is, _perfectly_! safe." It spoke in a metallic voice, with a changing tone, stopping after almost every word.

A turbine which was placed above the crossed wings began spinning, and the wings rose, revealing two giant doors, also made from welded, rusty metal plates. "Have, a nice, Visit! Partner."

He pushed the two doors and stepped inside, letting the giant gate close behind him. Four days ago, the stench inside would have overwhelmed him. Sweat, rotting, sewers and things he didn't want to know filled the air.

The town was built around a giant crater, with houses made from metal leftovers placed in various parts of the crater, with numerous catwalks connecting between them. Since the crater was extremely steep, the only part that didn't have catwalks is the crater's bottom, about ten feet radios from a…

Raph's eyes widened. Suddenly 'Megaton' became a pretty fitting name.

A giant nuclear bomb was the center of the town. It was upside down, its tip stuck in the ground. And a pool of a green goo around it.

 _Uranium. Or plutonium. Definitely radioactive. And poisonous._ He frowned. _Should've paid more attention to that field._

He immediately pulled out his Pip-device, switching to the Geiger counter feature. To his surprise, there was no radiation found whatsoever.

 _Guess that bomb has been here for quite a while, then._

He was still uneasy with the concept, though.

The place reeked, and rust was all over, giving the town an overall shade of brown. But it seemed peaceful. People, although filthy and mostly wearing rags or torn clothes, seemed relaxed, going about their own businesses. He even heard laughter.

A dark skinned man, wearing relatively intact clothes, a duster and an odd, wide hat approached him. "I'll be damned, another newcomer!" He greeted, his baritone voice making his appearance even more masculine.

He was short, wide built and muscular. And for some reason, he made Raph feel threatened. "I'm Lucas Simms, the sheriff of the town,"

 _That explains the hat._

"Mayor, too, when the need arises." The sheriff smiled, a warm, fatherly smile. He shook the stunned teen's hand. "You look like you've been through hell."

Raph stared blankly, unable to speak. The last person with authority he encountered was Alphonse.

"The quiet type, huh? Fine, might keep you out of trouble. I just hope you're not a _weirdo_." The way he pronounced it sounded as if he was talking about something worse. "Got enough of those already." Lucas's smile has slowly died out. "Everything's alright there?"

When the Lone wanderer didn't answer, the Sheriff's smile completely vanished, turning into an expression the teen didn't recognize. "God, I hope you ain't one of those psychotic quiet types."

That shook him out of his thoughts. "No, no! It's a, uh..." He blinked. _Smile, goddamit!_ "Nice to meet you, Sheriff." He forced himself to expose teeth.

The Sheriff seemed to be taken aback.

Raph quickly let his smile die out. _Okay,_ don't _smile._ "I'm... looking for my father. He... has grey hair, wears a Vault suit..." He sighed. The words were tangling up in his head. "Have you-?"

"-I got enough fires to put out in this place that I don't have time to keep tabs on every visitor." Lucas answered sternly, but quickly softened upon seeing the bloodstained teen's despair. "But you should ask around town."

Raph nodded. "Thanks. Um... one more thing,"

"Sure thing, what is it?"

He lifted the helmet's shield. "Do you know where I can get water? A-And food?" Flustered, he lowered his eyes to the ground. _Quit stuttering, will ya?_

The Sheriff smiled, realizing what he's seeing is just a kid, lost and confused. "So you're a young one. If you have the caps, The brass Lantern Is a good place."

 _'Caps'?_

"Good enough to keep you full, which is already better than most food you can find here in the wastes. If you don't have the caps, Moira's Craterside supply trades all kind of garbage for money." He pointed at a catwalk which started at the crater, near the bomb.

He stepped closer, his voice now barely a whisper. "Between you and me, you should keep that mouth of yours shut. No offence: to keep you out of trouble."

Raph nodded. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it." The sheriff turned his back and strolled down the hill, his duster lazily follows.

Raph walked down as well. Looking around, the craterside supply wasn't hard to locate, as giant letters spelling "CRATERSIDE SUPPLY" were spray-painted on the Shack's wall. It was placed relatively high, with the shortest path to it is a winding catwalk, which was partly constructed from the rooftop of a shack labeled ' _i_ nfirmary'.

Raph climbed up the rusty ramp and opened the door. A bell ringed as he entered the room.

It was less rusty than what he saw so far, but rusty nonetheless. A counter was placed to the right, near the entrance. Many shelves were installed on the wall behind the counter, packed with numerous miscellaneous items, from ammo boxes and food to unrecognizable parts and wooden baseball bats.

Further from the entrance was a workbench with numerous tiny parts scattered all over it, a table with chemistry set near a bulky-looking computer, three lockers, and a few metal boxes.

To the left closer to the entrance was a small division, which created a small side room with stairs which led up. On the division leaned a muscular man with a rough appearance, wearing a shirt made from thick leather, and holding an assault rifle of a model Raph didn't recognize.

"I'll be with you in a second!" A female voice called from upstairs, followed by fiddling and footsteps. A young woman came down the stairs.

Well, she was certainly older than him, but relatively young.

She had flaming red hair, pulled back in a ponytail, greasy and full of knots, and had probably seen better days. Her eyes were light brown, almost yellowish, and her face were relatively clean, surprisingly pale and slightly freckled, and with a happy - go - lucky smile that seemed to fit perfectly on her features. She was wearing a light blue factory worker jumpsuit, with 'Robco INC' labeled above her shirt's pocket.

"Welcome to Crater-side supply! How can I help- oh." her smile vanished, replaced with a look of surprise, then pity, and Raph had trouble keeping up. "Rough day out there?" She asked.

Raphael looked to the right, where the counter was placed. There was a mirror behind the counter, and Raph studied his reflection. He still wore the bullet proof vest and the security helmet. But it was sullied with dried blood, the helmet was battered and dusty, his jumpsuit was almost torn to shreds, and the multiple bandages on his limbs were downright filthy, almost black.

But what caught his attention was his face. His eyes had a troubled, somewhat scarred look, his features became coarse, and his face seemed to have aged at least ten years. For a moment, he could swear that the reflection that stared back at him was his father.

 _And yet, the sheriff still called me 'young one'._

He mumbled, then swallowed, trying to get some feeling back to his sand-like throat.

"I-I need money for food, and was told... Told that you are the one t-to trade with... I have some items..." Raph sighed, deciding to show her what he meant instead of talking, which was getting harder with every word. He pulled out three pistols from his improvised bag. "How much...?"

She took the pistols by hand, giving them nothing more than a brief scan. "Quality guns!" She exclaimed, then set them down on the counter. "Let's say… about one hundred and forty, each." Her face suddenly lit up. "Wait, you're that stray from the Vault! Haven't seen one of you in _years_!"

"How do y-" "It's so good to meet you!" she took his hand with both of hers, shaking it enthusiastically. "As you probably know, I run the Craterside supply. But what I really do is mostly tinkering and research."

"T-that's-"

"-Say, I'm working about a book about the wasteland - it'd be great to have the foreword by a vault dweller. Help me out, would you?" Her voice went half a pitch higher at the end, pleading. She finally let go of his hand.

Raph blinked. "O-oka-"

"-Great! Just tell me what's it's like to live underground, or to come outside for the first time, or whatever strikes you fancy!"

Raph gulped. _Setting foot in the wasteland for the first time?_ "The sun hurts."

" _Fascinating_!" she whipped out a clipboard, seemingly out of nowhere, writing it down.

"Is…" He cleared his throat, trying to get back to the original subject. "Are one hundred caps enough?"

"Oh, sure!" She cheered. Then she stopped writing, raising her head from the clipboard. "Wait, enough for what?"

He frowned. "Is it enough for... How much does food cost here? Water, somewhere to sleep?"

"Ooh! Jenny sells squirrel stew! It's... filling. If you need a place to sleep, you can rent a room at Moriarty's for one hundred caps, or sleep at the common house - that's where all town's visitors sleep, although it's dark in there, and…" she grimaced. "Kinda smells. As for water..." She pouted at him, "You'll need to drink irradiated water, or purify them by yourself."

His eyes scattered across the room, trying to process all if the new information.

"Ya know, Sounds to me like you need a job." She looked at him hopefully.

He kept staring at the floor. "Yeah, I figured that out by now."

She raised an eyebrow before giggling when she understood what type of character he was. "I mean I can _offer_ you a job. Wanna help me with the research? I can pay you, and it'll be fun!"

His gaze met hers. "Research what?"

"Well, it's a dangerous place out there in the wastes, right? People could really use a compilation of good advice, like a wasteland survival guide." The redhead woman gasped. " _Brilliant_!" She cheered, writing it down. " _The Wasteland Survival Guide_." She raised her gaze back to him. "Anyway, I need an assistant to help test my theories. I wouldn't want anyone to get hurt because of a mistake. Nobody's ever happy when that happens." She grimaced, looking at the floor. "No, they just yell a lot. At me." She frowned, looking back at him. "With mean, _mean_ words!"

Raph blinked, trying to study the eccentric person in front of him. "Um… sounds good."

Her face lit up, the frown vanished as if never existed. "Alright then! Now, I think the first chapter will have to be about surviving day-to-day dangers. Things like where it is and isn't safe to find food, the dangers of radiation, and how to avoid and even profit from dangerous landmines! Sounds like fun, doesn't it?"

 _Why is she so ecstatic about it?_

He nodded. "Okay... sounds good." _You've said that already._ "What's the pay?"

"I can pay you with caps, meds, chems, and maybe even a few of my unique inventions, if you do a good job. Interested?"

 _Do some work, earn enough to sustain me for a while, then go after Dad. That should work._

 _What are Chems?_

He nodded. "Sounds… yes."

"So. Radiation, food, landmines. Which one do you want to do first?"

"Radiation?" _After two hundred years, didn't most of it dissipate by now?_

"Well, I know about it from books, but I never seem to get a live example. Not for long anyway."

 _'Not for long'?_

"So…" She smiled apologetically. "I need you to get a bit of radiation poisoning, so I can study its effects. Oh, not a deadly dose, of course!" She hurried to explain when his usually blank expression visibly turned into horror. "I can fix you up before that!"

"Before... what?"

"Before it turns deadly."

He blinked. "Um… Let's go with food?"

"Food and medicine, everyone needs those every once in a while, right? There's an old pre-war 'Super-duper' mart not far from town. I need to know if a place like that still has food or medicine left in it." She wrote down some more, flipping the page.

 _After two hundred years? If there's anything left, I doubt it's still recognizable as food._

He nodded. "That… o-okay. I'll do that."

"Oh!" she stopped chewing on the pen, pointing it at him. "See if you can get medicine too. And if there's nothing to find, then just come back in one piece, okay?" She then frowned, looking at his hand. "Where's your Pip-boy?"

He went on the defensive. "Why?"

"To show you the way, of course! How were you planning to get there?"

 _What does the PB has to do with it?_

He took out the flat, rectangular device, hesitatingly handing it over. He didn't like having other people messing with his items, especially ones he carefully calibrated to suit his taste.

She fiddled with it, searching through the functions, making him cringe. "Ugh, what did you do to the poor thing? Ah, there!" The screen showed a crude topographic sketch of the area surrounding them. She put one marker on the map.

 _Always wondered about the GPS function._ He frowned. _Too bad I didn't include the antenna..._

She marked the location. "That's Megaton…" She expertly scrolled with the buttons east, marking another spot. "And that's where the Mart should be." She handed the device back to him.

"I need supplies."

"Here," She motioned to behind the counter, where a Vault suit was sitting on a hanger. "Take the armored suit. It won't help feed you, but it should keep you from being food to anything else. Or anyone else." She smirked.

He studied the suit, his eyes recognizing the hardened fiber. It was definitely going to help. But…

He sighed. "I still need water." This was going to be difficult. "It's great that… that you gave me a job. But I can't… It's impossible to focus on it when I still need to worry for my basic survival. I need supplies, and I need them now. Food, water, and somewhere to…" He watered his lips. The amount of concentration it required was exhausting. "To store my stuff."

 _You're asking a bit too much._

"Let's see… You can leave whatever you don't need here." She pointed at a box in the back of the room. "As for supplies, see what you can get for four hundred caps." She handed him a small pouch. He felt numerous tiny objects inside it. Bottle caps.

 _So 'caps' actually means… caps. Huh._

"So… how did you know?"

"Hmm?"

"That I was from the Vault?"

"Oh, psh!"

He frowned. "I don't understand."

She gave him an odd look. "Really?"

He stated at her. "What?"

"Wait, _your'e from a Vault_!" She hit her forehead with the base of her palm. "No wonder you don't know." She explained the redundant statement with yet another redundant statement. "It was on the radio."

He blinked. "What?"

"There's a working radio station, GNR, with news from all over the wastes. You should listen to it."

"What… _what_ w-was on the radio?"

She gave him another odd look. "That someone emerged from a Vault."

He realized he wasn't going to get any more useful information from her. So he nodded, murmuring "thank you." And went out the door.

It was nearly dark, and stars begun showing up in the dark horizon. Raph let himself gaze upon the sight, as more and more shiny dots became visible upon the night sky.  
He had money, and knew where to use it. Survival was no longer such an urgent issue.

He took in the sight, smiling for the first time in what felt like years.

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you for reading!**

 **Don't forget to review. Nothing keeps me going more than actually hearing from you, and to know what you're thinking!**

 **Also, the description of what he did to his Pip-Boy wasn't so clear, so let me just explain: The new device looks like a smartphone, only without cameras and such. It's a perfect, flat rectangle with a screen on one side, and buttons on the narrow sides (Err, the parts where the power and volume buttons are on smartphones.)  
** **To conceal the fact he wasn't using a Pip-Boy anymore, he made a shackle that exactly resembled the outer part of the PB, with a room for the new device. Imagine something like the PB Gadget Bethesta sold, with a room to slide in a smarphone.**

 **As always, I would thank anyone for pointing out mistakes in grammar,** **punctuation, spelling, and so on. Also, thanks to MysticMerlin for pointing out a tiny, yet significant mistake of having Raph make an entry log with the wrong date.**

 **vampwalker, you're aWESOME FOR BEING MY MOST DEDICATED REVIEWER.**

 **I just noticed I had capslock on. Meh**

 **StarFalls, making a fanfiction account will make answering to you much easier.**

 **Huge thank-you to my sister for proofreading my fic although its gory parts, And the biggest thank you is for those who take the time and effort to review. You people really keep me going.**

 **Peace.**


	9. Out of the blue, Part 2

_21.8.2277_

 _So Megaton is a real place. I've been walking for so long I thought I'd drop dead long before reaching it._

 _The sun is overwhelming. By the time I found the entrance I was out of water_ _ **and**_ _dehydrated. Not surprising considering my body is a result of generations of people who were exposed to fluorescent light at most._

 _Carrying a bag full with my stuff and wearing a bulletproof vest didn't really help either._

 _I met Moira, a shopkeeper/scientist, and the weirdest person I ever met. And that's coming from a guy who finds all humans weird. I've accepted a job offer to help her make a guide for surviving the 'Wasteland'. A pretty fitting name for the remains of our poor world, a memory for the waste of so many lives._

 _(Sigh)_

 _I've been having struggle with speech, taking me all the way back to first grade. I don't know why it happens, but it only happens with people, as I'm doing_ _ **just fine**_ _when talking to the PB's microphone. (Annoyed sigh.)_

 _Still no lead to dad's whereabouts. Apparently the news of dwellers escaping 101, and specifically 101 is on the radio, somehow. Need to investigate._

 _At least I earned some allowance for supplies. I have no_ _**clue**_ _how currency works here, but I figure it should last a few days._

 _I wish my friends were here with me to see this. The night sky is truly a sight to behold, untouched by man's destruction._

 _Maybe the wasteland isn't so bad._

* * *

Spectrum chapter 9 - Out of the blue, Pt.2: Yes it is.

He wanted to hurl. He really did. But it _was_ food.

He was sitting at a table outside of The Brass Lantern, at the bottom of the crater. It was one of the closest shacks to the bomb.

He grimaced, eyeing the goo-ish substance that was in his bowl, with floating chunks of something that mildly resembled meat. He forced himself to down another spoon, although his appetite was long gone.

 _Edible._ He gagged.

He sighed, and ate another spoon.

He turned to the waiter when he finished, handing her about a tenth of his caps.

She was blonde, and wore a yellow overall. She also was relatively clean compared to most of the people he saw here. He began to suspect that being a woman had something to do with it. "Now, I _know_ I haven't seen you here before. Let me guess, just passing through, right?" her voice was a bit thicker than most women he has met.

"Something like that." He lowered his gaze, avoiding eye contact. While he wasn't a stranger to small talk, he didn't know how to react to a total stranger doing it. "Have you seen a man in his late forties and, and wearing a Vault jumpsuit go through town, about three days ago?"

"No, sorry." she shook her head. "But you should ask Moriarty. That little gossip girl keeps tabs on everyone he sees."

"You… you know... where?" _You had it going so far, don't fall apart on me now._

She pointed up, at one of the shacks on the edge of the crater. "He's the owner of Moriarty's saloon. Thus the name. White hair, Scottish accent, _incredibly_ annoyingly smug. You can't miss him."

 _What does a Scottish accent sound like?_

"Th- thank you." He walked away, red faced.

…

When he entered the saloon, the first thing he noticed was the strong scent of alcohol, or rather alcoholic drinks. The second thing he noticed was a person near the counter, hammering with his fist on a radio box. He, if it was even a 'he', was wearing a tight white shirt soaked in sweat and was relatively tall, although it didn't seem like it due to a massive slouch. But that wasn't the most notable part about him. What little skin he had was peeling off, exposing muscle and veins underneath, his head was completely hairless, peeling off as well, and he had no nose.

"Come on." He grumbled towards the stuttering machine with a painfully hoarse voice. "Work."

Raph felt an urge to touch his own throat. His voice was almost gravely, making Raph shiver. He smelled like a dead body.

A ginger haired woman with a deep cut shirt sighed in annoyance. "Just leave that thing alone, Gob."

Gob refused to listen, tuning the frequency, turning the machine off and back on again, tapping, hitting and grunting in frustration.

"E-excuse me?" Raph asked, trying to be heard above the statics emitted from the radio's speaker.

"Mm? What?" The… man, looked up, obviously distracted by

the radio. "Oh. Welcome to Moriarty's. What can I get you?" He mumbled monotonously. He seemed depressed.

"Is Moriarty…" Raph frowned, his line of thought cut as he managed, even if barely, hear a mention of Vault one-o-one over the statics, coming from the machine.

" **...and that's for today scoop from Galaxy News Radio! That's right, from Megaton to Girdershade, Paradise Falls to the Republic of Dave, we're coming to you loud and proud. Three dog, out.** "

 _Creative naming._

The man gave Raph an odd look, and Raph had to suppress the urge to flinch. "You were saying?" he rasped.

Raph shook his thoughts. "I'm… th-the… is Moriarty around?"

The bartender shook his head. "Sorry, he's already out for the night. Anything else I can help you with? A drink, maybe?"

Raph took a deep breath. "Have you seen a-a man in… V-vault suit… in here? Lately?"

The man's eyes, which seemed unaffected by whatever disease he had, began looking anywhere but Raph. "I, uh… I don't know. Ask Moriarty."

"But you said-"

"-Then come back tomorrow. I don't know anything."

"P-"

"-Stop talking about it!" He whispered loudly, frantically searching the room, as if some wild animal would jump on him out of nowhere.

Raph looked at the floor, then at the machine. He was reminded of his dad doing a favor for Allen Mack who was usually hostile towards him, then managing to get what he needed as Mack felt obliged to return the favor. "Mind if I take a look?" He kept his glance at the antique.

Gob shrugged. "Knock yourself out."

Raph shivered. That voice required getting used to.

He disconnected the power cord from the box, then laid down his Vault backpack and took out a screwdriver from a palm-sized briefcase.

He opened the box, going over the insides. He strengthened a few connections, separated two exposed wires that were overlapping each other, and tied them away from each other.

He wanted to laugh. Back in the Vault he would _break_ stuff to a worse condition and fix them up just to sate his boredom.

He closed the screws on the lid, connected the power cord and flipped the switch. The machine flickered and loud, clear music began playing.

He turned back to Gob, who dumbly stared at the radio.

"Now that I helped you…" he said awkwardly, staring at the floor.

Gob sighed. It sounded odd with his unnaturally hoarse voice.

He briefly scanned the saloon, then leaned over towards Raph. "Alright, look." He whispered. "There was a guy here with a Vault gettup not long ago. Kinda looked like you." He paused. "Actually he looked a lot like you. But I can't tell you no more, Moriarty would kill me."

"If he doesn't… doesn't let you talk, why would he tell me himself?" Raph said slowly, like a baby trying to walk for the first time.

"Honestly kid, I don't know. I'm sorry."

Raph nodded. "Thanks anyway." He turned to the door.

…

The room was big, with six bunk beds. There was a locker near the entrance, rusty and dent, and numerous metal containers were scattered across it. At the furthest corner were two staircases, leading to higher and lower floors. He walked up to the top floor, which had only one dent bunk bed, and otherwise empty. He set down his bag, and begun stretching. When he was done, he took out the first aid kit.

He untied his bandages, which stenched worse than a dead body, to reveal small craters of wounded skin where the bullet wounds were before.

 _Those Stimpaks are something._

They were filthy, though. So he used some antiseptics to clean the leftover wounds.

He took the palm-sized suitcase from the bag, and opened it to reveal numerous screwdriver bits along with a screwdriver.

There were also a vial of isopropyl alcohol, a cloth, some capacitors, and a carefully wrapped spare glass lens. He disassembled the laser pistol and went over the circuitry, then cleaned the already installed lens.

The town had pipes all over if, with purified water running through them. With all of the rust and negligence, finding a leaking pipe and filing a bottle up wasn't too hard. He took one and downed it, careful not to spill some on the advanced circuitry.

He sat on the bed frame, finished putting the pistol together, and laid down in his clothes, still wearing full gear.

He sighed, feeling a tear running down his cheek.

* * *

He woke up when he heard muffling. Looking sideways he could see a figure going through his bag. "What are you doing?"

The figure raised its head. It pulled out a knife. "You didn't see this."

Raph frowned, sitting up. "But I am."

The figure, the man, took one step closer to the ex-dweller. "You're. Not."

Raph felt sweat running down his neck. "Um, sure." He swallowed. "Just, don't do anything stupid."

The man lunged at him with the sharp weapon. Raph managed to grab hold of his hand, barely preventing it from slipping inside his throat.

 _You should keep your mouth shut, to keep you out of trouble. Dumbass._

The knife was getting closer and closer to disconnecting his windpipe, so he tried to think of a way out. The panic was too much, preventing him from using his calm, level headed _void_. Laying on his back, gravity was also against him.

 _How about a good kick to the groin? That usually works._

So he did. The push on the knife immediately weakened. He kicked again, this time with all of his strength.

 _The throat._

He punched the man in the throat, making him gag, and pulled the knife out of his grasp, ensuring his own safety with another kick.

He pushed the man of off him, and clumsily pulled out his laser pistol, aiming it at the man. It took him a moment to realize that in his haste to pull the weapon free, he pressed the trigger. He didn't mean to.

But the damage has been done. The man screamed as he desperately tried to keep his guts inside his body, the scream shortly dying out as his strength left him.

Raph merely stared. He had seen enough death as it is. He wanted to cry.

His heart was pounding, and the adrenaline made thinking nearly impossible. The floor rushed towards him at an alarming rate.

He woke up to the smell of a rotting body. He pushed back the need to gag, picking up his belongings, along with his new knife.

He closed the dead man's starting eyes. "I'm sorry." he mumbled, and went out of there as fast as he could, into the biting cold of the night.

His face was stinging. His entire body itched.

He shortly found himself near one of the pipe leaks, in a hidden corner of the city. The night was cold, but the water was _freezing_ , made him feel as if he was being chewed on all over. But he just didn't care. Having his body scream made other parts of him stay silent. He needed that. He smelled dried blood melt from his face.

The sun began to rise, and he quickly dried up.

Inhaling deeply, he put his steps towards the craterside supply. The itching sensation has weakened, but he still felt horrible. No amount of water could wash that feeling away.

…

"Oh hey! How's the food scavving been?" The shopkeeper seemed as jolly as always, something Raph found quite annoying at the moment.

"I was just about to get to it. I just came to pick up the suit." He took the armored suit from the hanger. A quick look at the mirror let him know that he had a cut in his brow, and that it wasn't too bad.

He pointed towards a small room. "Can I change there?"

"Oh, sure!" She gestured with her hand, something Amata taught him means 'Go ahead'.

He nodded, going behind the wall.

"Hey, everything's alright?"

He didn't answer, focusing his attention on peeling the torn suit, which was now more of a inseparable tank top and pants, of off him.

"What's eating ya?"

Resisting the urge to take it literally and search his body for any human-consuming mutant, he had to stop and think before he understood what she meant.

"I had… I had someone killed last night." he answered from the other side of the wall.

"Oh, that's horrible!" she exclaimed. Peeking out, he saw she was looking at him emphatically. "Why did you do that?"

He went back to changing. "He put a knife to my throat. I tried..." he sighed. "It was an accident."

She tapped her lips with her pen. "Moriarty usually keeps his tavern in check all the time."

"I slept at the common house."

"Oh. Why didn't you rent a room?"

"Because that would leave me with no caps for food in less than two days." He entered the main room, now donning the hardened fiber suit. He went to the back of the room and put the old suit in one of the metal boxes, where he left his firearm ammo boxes and canned food.

She made a weird motion with her mouth. "There's a small apartment at the bottom of the crater." She said, contemplating. "I can rent it for ya."

His eyes widened, stopping in the middle of wearing the bulletproof vest. "Y-you don't have to…"

She made a cancelling motion with her hand. "Aw, gobbledygook. Consider this as my investment in the book." She snickered. "Rhymes."

He nodded, buckling in the last clip. "Thank you so much."

He revealed the knife, causing her guard to chamber his rifle and aim it at him.

"Here-" Raph froze in place, looking at the guard. "What are you doing?" he asked, trying not to panic.

The guard kept his weapon tainted at him. "Drop the knife."

That's when the dweller realized he's holding the knife from the handle with the blade towards Moira, giving the impression he was about to stab her.

His eyes widened. "No, no!" He dropped the sharp object, as it fell on the metallic floor with a clang. "I- meant to giv-ve..."

The guard disarmed his weapon. "Don't give me a reason to shoot you."

"Oh, stop it!" The ginger berated him. The guard looked the other way, hands folded on his chest, letting the weapon hang on him from the leash. She turned back to the awkward teen, picking up the knife. "Aww, you didn't have to."

The teen nodded, his face neutral once again.

…

Raph headed towards the town entrance. The hardened fiber was heavier than his previous suit, and it added some bulk, adding up to the already uncomfortable vest.

The minute he went out the door, he ran into the masculine figure of sheriff Simms. The man eyed him sternly.

"I heard what happened." He squinted. "It's not the first time something like this goes down in the common house. I want to believe you did that out of self defense, so I'm gonna let this one slide."

"How-"

"Word gets around fast in this town. Don't do anything stupid, I wouldn't want to waste a bullet on your sorry hide." he turned his back, the duster flailing just enough to reveal his belt, holding two bulky ammo clips. Raph had a feeling he didn't want to be at the edge of whatever weapon that uses those clips.

Mentally cursing, he went out through megaton's gate, heading towards the 'Super-Duper' mart. His balance was getting used to the rocky ground, making the walk exponentially easier.

He had about an hour of silence before his ears picked up growling. He sighed, pulling out the small energy weapon.

On top of the hill appeared what seemed to be a dog. But the Lone Wanderer could easily spot the mutations. The animal's eyes were red and swollen, and its eyelids seemed to be incapable of closing. It barely had any fur, and most of its skin was torn, exposing the muscle underneath to infection.

Snarling madly, revealing numerous, tiny teeth, it charged towards the Wanderer.

Raph, almost feeling sorry for the creature, raised the pistol to eye level, waited for the animal to get close enough for him not to miss, and squeezed the button. The red flash severely mutilated the animal's shoulder, to which it responded with a whine, collapsing to the ground and coming to a halt. As it tried to get up, Raph pressed the trigger twice more. The first flash mutilated the skinless dog's face, and the second its brain. The poor creature fell limp, and the Wanderer walked by it without as much as a second look.

 _Why is everything that moves is trying to kill me?_

The sun was high in the sky when he saw the back of the 'Super-Duper' mart building from afar, standing alone among piles of broken concrete and mounds of earth. Gulping down another bottle, he sped up his steps.

With his back to the wall, he side stepped his way. Then, hoping to surprise whoever's behind the corner, he took a sudden large step with his gun pointed at the building's empty entrance.

His shoulders relaxed, lowering the gun.

He took a deep breath and entered the building, failing to notice the hanged corpses.

An explosion was heard, and a bullet hit his chest plate, knocking him off of his feet. He flailed towards the wall as just in time as a volley followed shortly at where he was a second ago, creating holes in the door behind him and sending ricochets all over. Ralph thanked Moira for the hardened fiber suit, which kept his skin intact. He tried to peak but was immediately forced behind cover as another burst made him go nearly deaf.

"Woo-hoooo! Got some fresh meat, booooys!" Called a rowdy voice. The gunfire lasted a few more seconds then was replaced by rapid clicking. Raph took his chance and stepped from his cover, missing the half - naked man.

The man just finished inserting a new magazine. "You're dead, motherfucker!" He yelled, chambering his weapon, forcing Raph back behind the wall just in time to avoid another burst, as the idiot didn't bother to aim.

That didn't change the fact he was heavily armed, though.

The door behind the Lone Wanderer opened, and a hand grenade flew past him. "WHAT THE FU-!" Raph heard the man yell before an eardrum shattering explosion made him fall on the ground. Above the ringing he heard a few distant gunshots, then felt a hand grabbing his shoulder. He looked up to see a figure dragging him back to his cover.

She fired a few more shots, then kneeled to look at him. He saw her cherry colored lips move, barely managing to read them. Her suntanned face were serious, focused on his.

She sighed before swinging her gun at his helmet, the shock bringing him back to his senses, along with a terrible headache.

"What's your name?"

She grabbed his helmet, turning his face towards her. "What's, Your, Name?" She mouthed the words slowly.

He was having a hard time thinking. His ears were ringing. "R-Raph-phael."

She seemed to be relieved. "Raphael, my name is Sydney fox. We're both in a sticky situation here, and I need your help. Can you stand up?"

* * *

 **When you thought it couldn't get any worse... Meh.**

 **Thank you for the reviews! You people are awesome.**

 **Shouvin, out.**


	10. Out of the blue, Part 3

_22.8.2277_

 _Moriarty was already asleep when I got to his… Bar? Saloon._

 _He has a guy with no skin working for him. Apparently it's a condition called ghoulification, and those ill with such condition are called ghouls. Caused by rare cases of exposure to radiation, instead of dying of radiation poisoning. Non contagious. Horribly reeks._

 _Although the reeking could be a result of a mixing that condition with poor hygiene. I didn't really bother to find out. Nor do I intend to, really._

 _I uh… (sigh) I was got robbed by a wastelander last night. And I… I Ended up... (deep breaths.) I E-ended up… (Crying, record cuts in middle of sobs.)_

 _(Sniff) I passed out right after that. I can't stop thinking about it. I could have yelled. I could have done… something._

 _ **(**_ _30 seconds of silence and distant chatter and occasional mooing.)_

 _ **I could have DONE something!**_ _Why does everything out here have to go by kill or be killed?! (unintelligible ramblings)(unintelligible, crying)(unintelligible yelling, device falls, recording cuts.)_

 _(Deep breaths, shaking breaths.) Lucas, Megaton's sheriff, found out. Let me off with a warning._

 _Moriarty was still nowhere to be seen, so I went off to the 'Super Duper' mart._

* * *

Spectrum chapter 10 - Out of the blue, Pt.3: It's not _all_ bad... is it?

She grabbed his helmet, turning his face towards her. "What's, Your, Name?" She mouthed the words slowly.

He was having a hard time thinking. His ears were ringing. "R-Raph-phael."

She seemed to be relieved. "Raphael, my name is Sydney fox. We're both in a sticky situation here, and I need your help. Can you stand up?" She asked, unclipping her black backpack.

He nodded, dragging his legs underneath him, then sluggishly standing up, as if he's getting off his bed for another day of work.

She laid her bag on the floor. "Good. Do you know how to use this?" She pulled out a small, eclipse shaped, tiny green object, with some sort of mechanism attached to it. A hand grenade.

His eyes went a bit wider than usual. "I-I know the mechanism, but a-a-I never..." He murmured, gulping.

"It's easier than it seems, just release the pin, and immediately throw it. On my mark, throw it to where I'm pointing at. For now, I need you to wait here like this." She went down on one knee, with most of her body behind the wall, except for her head and left arm which held the gun. "And cover for me, alright?" She stood up.

He nodded stupidly, crawling into a position similar to hers.

"Great. Remember, grenade on my mark, don't keep holding it after the pin's released." She took his gloved hand and stuffed the grenade into it, staring dead in his eyes. "Don't drop it."

She rushed into the room.

A man and a woman rose from behind the counters, only to be brought down by two short, amazingly accurate bursts from Sydney's machine gun. Raph stared, dumbstruck.

Sydney jumped over the bodies, and with one smooth motion hopped on an intact seven feet tall stacking shelf, immediately landing in a crouching position _with the grace of a cat, as her father used to say._

From her heightened post she had a much better view of her surroundings. She knew standing so tall made her dangerously exposed, but from her experience the dumbasses would still be stunned from the explosion and wouldn't notice a Brahmin charging into the building. She easily located six Raiders and fired short bursts to their location, taking them down.

A glimpse towards the Vault dweller revealed him being completely stunned. She smirked.

Raph looked at her skip from shelf to shelf, practically jogging, then jumped back to the floor, her eyes focusing on another enemy that was concealed from Raph's sight. He was amazed at how fast she alternated her aim between the armed foes. He couldn't see them, but he didn't need to. It wasn't hard to tell she's not missing.

Sydney landed on a female raider, knocking her off her feet, and hammered her machine gun on the base of the woman's neck. She then yelled over to him, snapping him from his stupor. _The final step to shell shock treatment: Make him feel useful, dim the helpless sensation._

"Raphael, grenade!" she pointed to a spot between the shelves as she ran towards him.

Raph pulled the pin, unused to the thick gloves, he was having trouble releasing it completely. He took them off with a smooth motion. With sweaty hands he tried to throw it, but it slipped from his grasp before he completed the throwing motion, and it fell a bit too close to him.

Sydney's run turned into a sprint, her mind a blank. She lunged at him, tackling him back behind the wall, both of them rolling on the floor just as the detonation sent sharp shrapnel and wood chunks to every direction. Shelves were knocked over in a domino effect, raising massive clouds of dusts.

Being used to loud gunfights, she managed to hear him grunt next to her. She rolled to her side, scanning him for injuries, then chuckled with ease, consciously talking louder than usual. "Well that was fun, wasn't it?"

He frowned at her as the dust began to settle, his head pounding. He barely heard her over the ringing in his ears.

She was young, looking younger than him, comparing her to his aged reflection. She had delicate Asian features, which somewhat contrasted with the stubborn look in her eyes. Her skin was bronze with suntan, and her hair was raven black, loose and smoothly gliding down just enough to brush her shoulders.

She was an inch taller than him, with a slim build, and she wore what seemed to be a bulletproof dark green shirt, giving protection to her shoulders as well. Her hands were bare and suntanned. She wore matching pants with green kneecaps, with the edges of her pants tucked in military boots, similar to his. He looked away when he realized he was staring at her body, as she helped him up.

Her slanted eyes were an enchanting dark shade of brown, and her sunburned lips were a delicate shade of pink, drawn in a cocky half-smirk.

He averted his gaze, trying to distract himself from her distractingly distracting form. His eyes landed on the bodies. "Who a-are these people?"

She raised an eyebrow as she clipped the bag back on, then her eyes laid on his Vault suit. She nodded to herself.

She pointed an arm at him "Raphael," she pointed the arm towards the bodies. "Raiders." she turned to the dead bodies. "Raiders," she pointed at him again "Raphael."

He inspected the bodies, the ones that remained whole, managing to recognize some common properties.

If the Wastelanders at Megaton weren't particularly clean, these people were downright filthy. They all wore rather ragged clothes, made from old leather and rubber leftovers. Most men were shirtless with shoulder guards, or wearing clothes that left half their chest bare. They overall seemed to not be too concerned with proper body exposure - one of the women was only wearing a metal bra that seemed to have been hammered to a bowl shape, then tied with torn fabric. These people basically wore junkyard as clothes.

He turned to her. " _Raiders_?"

"Assholes that find it easier to murder and steal." Her smile slowly faded. "Usually so full of Chems they can't tell shit from food."

He shivered at the thought.

"Out of their mind, doing the most horrible things to sate basic needs." Her expression turned dark. "They can barely form an agreeable group, but when they do they can erase entire settlements off the wastes."

He glanced over the remains of the assault rifle of the raider that attacked him. Not hard to see why.

"Wh-who puts c-chems in them?"

She studied him. "They do."

He grimaced. "Why?" That can't be good for one's health.

"To get high, dumbass. Haven't you heard of Chems in your Vault?"

He contemplated for a moment. _We call them drugs._

"Anyway…" she shook off the topic. "What brings you here?" she switched to a lighter one.

"I'm checking i-i-if I can…" he frowned. What was he doing here? Mutant dog, drugged bandits, gunfight and exploding grenades, and her. Tough, witty, beautiful… mercenary? So many unplanned events, it was too easy to get distracted.

 _Survival. Focus._

"-C-can find food." he swallowed. "In here." he added after a moment.

"If you're looking for rotten human flesh, there's plenty of it hanging outside." She motioned towards the exit.

Raph frowned. He didn't notice anything. Then again, he did tend to get so focused on one thing he'd forget everything else.

"You?"

"Me?" She took out the magazine and disarmed her weapon, catching the round that flew out. "I was passing by and I heard gunfire, came to see if I can help." She inserted the round back into the magazine. "I figured it was Raiders attacking some poor bastards." She inserted the clip back into the gun. "Thought I might scavenge the assholes while I'm at it." she causally hit the bottom of the clip, ensuring its position in the socket, all while looking at him. The causality she did it with made Moira's guard look like an amateur.

He raised a brow. _Scavenging from dead Raiders. That's not much better than killing innocents for their items._

A man stepped out from the toilets, tripping on his half worn pants.

Sydney aimed her weapon at him. "Hands up!" She barked, and Raph resisted the urge to raise his own hands. The raider perked up, only managing to stand on his knees due to his tangled pants.

She leaned towards Raph. "Cover me." She whispered, then walked to the raider. She looked down at him, hands on her thighs, tilting her head as if she was trying to decide what to do with him, then kicked him in the face, knocking him unconscious.

"Wasn't worth the ammo." She shrugged to his frown, smiling, unaware of the butterflies she caused to flutter in his stomach.

She then looked into the room the raider came out of and then took a step back, eyes wide, covering her mouth.

Raph tensed, the laser pistol humming in his hand. After a moment he realized the gesture is an expression of something, although he couldn't remember what. Raph paced up by her side, stopping dead in his tracks, noting himself that that gesture expresses shock.

Inside the room was a young woman. Or rather the torso of a woman, as her limbs were piled up in the corner. She was completely undressed, and was laying in a pool of blood from said missing limbs.

Her eyes were closed shut, tear marks running down her face. Her skin had a blue shade to it, the kind that suggested that she was now in a better place. She was still bleeding, what little blood she had left.

The man with his pants down suddenly became much less comical.

Raph stared indifferently. So much death.

He glanced over to Sydney, who clenched her fists so hard her knuckles turned bloodless white. She raised her metallic weapon at the raider. "Sick, _sadistic_ , son of a bitch..."

"Wait." Raph murmured, and was taken aback by the glare she sent him. Eyes wide with bloodlust, teeth clenched with hatred. The kind of glare that can blow holes in solid steel.

"Talk, or I'll give you the same treatment." She hissed.

He didn't know if she meant the broken-nosed raider, or the woman.

He gulped. "He deserves worse."

She deadpanned him. "I'm listening."

He drew a deep breath. That's the most talkative he's been in quite a while.

"In... Megaton, there's a woman who wants to produce an antidote for radiation."

"Get to the point." Her hand was shaking.

"She needs a subject to experiment on. A human subject. And he has to be heavily irradiated for that."

"So?"

"So, there's an inactive nuclear bomb in the center of the town. And it's leaking."

She lowered her gun. "That's not a bad idea."

He grabbed the man's pants and took them off, leaving him in his loincloth.

She seemed to be ready to throw up. " _What are you doing_?"

He didn't answer. He flipped the man on his stomach, then tied his hands with the pants, securing the knot, twice, then thrice.

She frowned. "Good thinking."

He nodded absentmindedly. Following her example, he climbed a stacking shelf, one of the few which weren't blown up or knocked over during the fight.

 _She made it look easy._ He thought as he struggled to get up.

He looked around. Except for the main room, now full of bodies and destroyed wooden shelves, there was a side room near the entrance, a toilet room, and a main storage room at the back.

He walked over to the side room, while she searched the bodies.

It was small, with a few metal shelves. Some preserved food was lying around, a locked medical kit installed on the wall which he easily unlocked, and…

He stared dumbly as he picked it up.

It was dent, the lever was rusty, and the paint was faded. But it was a laser pistol, similar to the one he was already holding. Two energy cells were resting on the table. Back at the Vault, the only laser pistol inside there was a secret, which he found out about only due to his somewhat nosy nature. He had to hack the same computer twice, and pick three different locks just to know of its existence.

The pistol itself was only locked behind two locks, though. He shrugged it off. _Focus._

Sydney gave a yelp of surprise, catching his attention. but when he turned to her he saw she was inspecting an odd glass jar with pills.

"Buffout. Pre-tty valuable." She answered his stare, pointing at the jar.

He shook his head. _Probably another Chem._

He loaded a cell into the second laser pistol, then unloaded it. As far as he knows, it can burn out in his hand because of a ridiculously easy-to-fix short circuit. He decided it would be best to check the internals thoroughly before a test fire.

He walked all the way back to the storage room, jumping over a counter to find it locked behind a blast door. A bulky monitor with a folded keyboard was installed on the wall near it.

He detracted the keyboard from underneath the monitor, and began typing away.

A few minutes passed and he heard the soldier girl walk up behind him. "You can hack terminals?"

He stopped typing. "Terminals?"

"Well, you know. This..." she gestured with her hand towards the computer. " _thing_?"

He nodded.

"Can you get the door open?"

He got so caught up fiddling with the computer itself and the model of the blast door that he forgot the main reason he hacked it for in the first place. He really doubted his intelligence sometimes.

He typed in a command and pressed enter. Something clanked inside the door, and Raph pulled it open.

Sydney entered it first. "Guess they haven't opened that door in a while." she called from inside.

"Mm-hmm." Raph squinted. The room was stale.

There were many miscellaneous electronics scattered across various metallic shelves. He nodded with appreciation. He could do a lot with those.

Numerous craters of nuka cola bottles, both full and empty were piled up in the corner. One of the bottles contained a glowing blue substance. Holding the pip-device next to it confirmed his suspicion - it was radioactive.

But that wasn't the most notable part about the room.

There was a stasis chamber, containing a Protectron model robot in a relatively good shape.

Raph squealed internally.

He immediately pulled out the retractable keyboard from the… Terminal, as Sydney called it, and frantically typed away. It took mere moments before he found what he was looking for. **PLEASE WAIT** was flashing on the screen, then replaced by a long list.

Raph briefly scanned it, his enthusiasm fading the more he read.

Sydney hovered behind his shoulder. Staring at the gibberish that flickered on the green monitor, unconsciously shaking her head. She might as well try reading Chinese. "What?" She asked, noticing something's wrong.

"It's…"

He didn't answer, eyes focusing on the screen.

"Raphael." she laid a hand on his shoulder, causing him to sharply turn his head to her in surprise. "What is it?" she asked.

He returned his gaze to the monitor. "Processing is far from optimal, the gyroscope is barely functional, weapon systems…" he sighed, pointing at a line on the screen which ended with ERROR.

"Can you get it running?"

"I can boot it up." He thought about his next words, typing some more. "But to get it to do anything-"

"- **We're back. Somebody open up the... hold on.** " a voice echoed throughout the mart's intercom system.

Sydney sharply turned to the door, her machine gun aimed at the room entrance as if it was never holstered.

Raph nearly jumped out of his skin, then struggled to pull his own weapon when he noticed his companion had hers ready.

" **What, the,** _ **fuck**_ **?** "

"I don't think they liked our little surprise." She smirked with an evil giggle, and crouch walked to the counter outside the blast door.

She peeked from her spot, then quickly lowered her head back.

"Okay. Six a-holes, seem sober, and they're splitting up." She whispered.

Raph nodded, keeping eye contact from inside the room. His ears were still ringing.

"They have no idea where we are, so we're gonna do this simple: Wait for them to come as close as possible, then gun them down. Alright?"

He nodded again, taking a deep, shaky breath.

She put a hand on his shoulder. He looked at her, surprised. "Relax. It's gonna be fine."

They looked each other in the eye, then Sydney rose from the cover, exposing only her head and her hands, released three short bursts then ducked again. The effect was immediate, as he heard commotion beginning to stir. He nearly jumped out of his jumpsuit when numerous volleys went off at once.

The soldier girl caught his attention by firmly grabbing his shoulder. She signaled with two fingers at the far edge of the counter. He walked there, imitating her crouched walk.

Taking a few quick breaths, he raised his head over the counter. He aimed his weapon at another frantic raider, but missed him by far. He ducked when the psycho turned his barrel to him, ricochets flying from the wall behind him.

Sydney was used to the deafening noise and the enormous pressure, so she didn't lose her composure for a second. The moment the volley stopped, she answered with one of her own, taking down another asshole. A raider with the body of a super mutant holding enormous weapon spotted her, and began firing the monster, holding it from his waist. She backed down immediately.

She ducked further when one deadly bullet pierced their cover.

At this rate, the enormous projectiles would grind their cover to shreds. This was hopeless. Raph found that breathing became quite a task. The Raiders don't seem to run out of ammunition. His vision was getting blurry. He just noticed numerous cuts in his body, where the ricochets managed to pierce through his suit. It hurt. They're going to die. He's going to die. They're dead. So dead. So very, very dead.

Sydney glanced over him to see him staring at the floor with wide eyes, holding his head. His breathing was rapid and flat.

She grabbed Raph by the helmet. "Raph."

He didn't respond. She shook him violently. "Raph!" His eyes focused on hers. He stared at her, and for the first time since they met, his face wore an expression.

Helpless.

"SNAP OUT OF IT!"

Raph took a deep breath. He felt odd. Relaxed against all odds. He reached down into his mind, and found the void. With panic out of the way, he could think clearly. Calculating the holes created in the wall behind him and crossing it with the approximate location of the raiders, he found a blank spot in the torrent of bullets. It was a risk, but it was either 'Maybe die now', or 'Die for sure later'. 'Maybe' seemed more promising.

Even if only by a little.

He raised from his cover, and shot one beam, missing the goliath of a man by an inch. He immediately corrected and fired three more beams, each one slicing further through his enormous torso.

He ducked back, seeing Sydney pulling out a grenade. She looked at him, he nodded.

She pulled the safety, and tossed.

 _Clank. Three, two, o-_

The explosion was overwhelming, but he was prepared for that, covering his ears with his hands. They both raised from the cover, gunning down the remaining stunned opponents, which now laid exposed, as there were no shelves left to hide behind.

They both sat down, heads against the wall, breathing heavily. Sydney stood up, glancing over the wrecks, frowning. Raph wobbled up, just to be pushed down by the mercenary. He heard gunfire.

Something was wrong. She felt it in her stomach. Some of the bodies were splattered by the grenade, making them impossible to count. How can she know they got them all?

That's when another Raider popped up, not where she expected. She pushed the Vault dweller out of the way. The raider fired, and she felt her leg burn up from inside, forcing her to kneel.

Barely standing on her knees, she emptied her magazine, turning the scum into a human Swiss cheese.

Raph heard her scream, then saw the raider fall. He rushed to examine her, noticing a pool of blood pouring from a wound in her leg.

His magnet glove would be useless here. He knew what a five-fifty-six bullet can do. And he also knew that the exit wound is never even close to the entrance wound, as that merciless bullet was made to do as much damage as possible to living tissue. If there was an exit wound at all. Sighing, he took out his medical kit, and began improvising a Tourniquet.

…

They walked, or to be exact, Raph walked while Sydney limped, having most of her weight on him. His muscles screamed for rest, and his injuries were flaring, but he managed to push back the feeling, dimming it down to nothing more than a mild nuisance. Who knew armor could be so _god-damn_ heavy?

The bound raider, now also blindfolded, was a few feet in front of them, allowing them some privacy. The robot was bobbing with a clank in every step behind him, with one stern, cold metal arm forcing the scum to keep walking blindly. Sydney's bag was strapped onto the body of the automaton.

"So-" she inhaled sharply, wincing. "Where are you from?"

Raph found the silence rather comfortable. "Vault one-o-one." He mumbled."West from Megaton."

There was a few more minutes of comfortable silence, only broken by the Protectron's clanking and an occasional grunt from Sydney.

"What was it like?"

Raph sighed. "Home."

She chuckled. "Aren't you informative."

He looked down. His thoughts wandered to Amata - the sister he never had, and Paul, who with time grew to be like a brother to him. He missed them. They were his family.

It feels like it has been years since.

"Raphael?"

"Raph." He sighed.

"Raph. Well?"

"I'm…" his mouth opened, closed, and opened again. "Not very good at talking."

"Yeah," she chuckled. "I noticed."

He didn't answer.

"One-o-one sounds like one of those safe havens." She said, trying to get him to talk.

"It was."

"Why did you leave then?"

"Overseer got crazy."

A few more moments of silence passed, filled by constant clanking , and Raph was thankful for every single one.

He frowned, trying to figure out how to show he's not completely indifferent to her. "What about you?" He finally managed to say.

"Not much to say. Grew up in _Canterbury commons_ , my dad taught me to get around. Got into relic hunting about a year ago, brought back a document for this guy, Abraham Washington. After he loaded me up with caps, I got drunk, got laid, and never looked back since."

A few more moments of silence passed.

He looked at her hand, the one holding the machine gun. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but that doesn't look like a stock model."

She smiled proudly. "That's my Ultra 10mm SMG."

"Can I have a look?"

Without a second of hesitation, she took off the strap and handed him the weapon, taking his laser pistol to cover with instead.

Looking over the machine gun, he could easily see the amount of thought put into the metalwork, the flawless color, down to the knot used in the strap. Many parts have been swapped with ones of better quality. It was a work of art.

"Impressive." They switched back. He watered his mouth.

Her voice became bitter. "My dad was a gun fanatic, taught me everything I know."

He felt a knot in his stomach. "Were you close?"

"Yeah." She took a deep breath. "The best dad in the world. Caring, loving, a bit too protective, but that was him. With mom gone, all we had was each other. Then one day I wake up, with him nowhere to be seen."

Silence. Clanking.

"He didn't even say goodbye." She sighed

"Do you have any idea how scary is this world for a fourteen year old girl? All alone?" She chuckled, as if not believing. "He used to call me my-" She inhaled sharply. "-little moonbeam." She groaned, leaning more of her weight on him. "Double faced bastard."

Her hair tickled his neck, light and soft, and her scent filled his head. Under the smell of the sweat, It was pleasant. And a bit too distracting.

"Anyway, that was four years ago." She concluded, seemingly unaware of the impact her gesture made on him.

He nodded to himself. Eighteen. So she _is_ younger than him.

"My dad went missing too."

She chuckled darkly. "Yeah, looks like that's the only thing they're good at."

"Don't talk about him like that!"

She flinched. That's the most expressive he's been so far. "Sorry..."

The silence became uncomfortable. "No." He finally said. "It's okay. I was... I'm sorry for breaking out like that." He swallowed, contemplating his next words.

Silence. Clanking.

"It's... He... My dad is not one to just... Disappear. He helps. Always."

Raph wiped his eyes with the less filthy part of his sleeve. "He would go through countless nights without sleep just to help those who need it."

"He came back to our dorms one time, after helping our maintenance worker repair half of the Vault, and that was after he had to watch over a premature baby's vitals, for three days straight."

He gave himself a moment to breath.

"When he came back half dead, the first thing he did was sit by my bed, asking how was my day. And me? I wouldn't shut the fuck up about some kid who always annoyed me, or that some other kid who wouldn't stop bullying me." He wiped his eyes again unconsciously. "And suddenly he's gone, only leaving behind a voice memo that couldn't possibly be more vague."

He felt Sydney's hand, the one that was using him to support his weight, gently squeeze his shoulder.

He lifted his gaze, and for some reason was surprised to see a warm, understanding look in her eyes. "Is that why you left the Vault?"

"You can say that." _being hunted by a crazed control freak also had its fair share._

"You can't be so hard on yourself, you know. You were just a little kid back then. And that's what kids do at this stage of their lives. Adults give, a child takes." She looked at the blindfolded raider that was being pushed by the Protectron, seemingly ready to throw up just by the sight of him. "Sometimes, adults too."

She looked back at him. The rapid change from pure hatred to empathy was rather difficult for him to digest. "Would you mind playing the recording for me?"

Raph searched his pocket with his free hand and took out the pip-device. Browsing the files, he quickly found the recording and pressed "play".

As the recording played, Sydney alternated her gaze between him and the device, a knowing smile spreading across her face as she returned to search the wastes.

It was only then that Raph noticed that the voice from the recording sounded like an older version of his own.

"Well, it does sound like he has a good reason." She suggested as the recording ended.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, if he is the sort of person as you described him, maybe he was needed somewhere else. Otherwise, why would he leave?"

Raph frowned as he tried to process that information.

"I mean, the Vault is a safe place, right?"

Raph nodded, still frowning. "Until the overseer got mad."

"Which was before or after he left?"

He frowned. For his father to know he's needed out there in the Wasteland, meant he's already been there once.

It made sense. The exhausted, somewhat haunted look in his eyes. The rough appearance. The same look that caught onto Raph himself after so little time in the wastes.

"After…"

But the Vault itself had so many people in need for his help, Raph couldn't find any possible reason for him to go out there in the first place. Unless…

"Then why would he leave?"

That's when it hit him, like a burning sun ray on his sensitive, Vault - accustomed skin.

Unless he's not originally from the Vault.

Sydney groaned again, but this time with ease. Looking up, he saw the metal dome in the horizon, peeking out among dozens of dead - brown hills. The torturing walk was coming to an end.

He looked down at her leg. The Tourniquet wasn't holding up. "You're bleeding again." He determined critically.

"Explain to me one more time. How do I carry an injured person on my back?"

* * *

 **R &R!**

 **HUGE Thanks to Shepard's Lore (formerly RiotDragon) for an AWESOME shoutout, and the new reviewers! Hope you guys are here to stay.**

 **As usual, Any mistakes pointed out (Either Grammar, spelling, or cannon) will be fixed without giving credit what-so-ever to the... 'out-pointer'? 'Cause I'm evil, that's why.**

 **Not really. Thank you Shepard! Moira's accent is _northern_. Not southern. Heh, my bad... **

**Nothing keeps an author like hearing his readers!**

 **Shouvin, out.**


	11. Mixed feelings

_22.8.2277 Megaton, outside of Doc church's infirmary_

 _Moriarty was still nowhere to be seen, so I went off to the Super Duper mart. Turns out it's packed with Raiders - crazed, heavily armed, overdosed drug addicts._

 _Murderers, thieves, rapists. I was ridiculously outgunned, and saved by a relic hunter-scavenger named Sydney. She took a 5.56, one of the most cruel bullets out there, right to her hip. It was a miracle it didn't go up into her vitals._

 _Megaton's doctor, Duc church, is taking care of her leg. It cost quite a lot, too. He claimed that the Tourniquet I made her was unnecessary. I don't think he would have said that if he knew how much we had to walk to get to him. The doctor is hard to read, but I assume my magnet glove proved helpful in the procedure._

 _Turns out Chems are drugs. They push the user's body, giving him/her temporary boost in strength or speed -depends on the Chem - and gives the user a good feeling. Gets him/her 'high'. But it's ridiculously addictive, and extremely poisonous. Those idiots don't live long._

 _The raiders had plenty of food in there laying around, and very little medicine in locked med kits. More supplies were in an electronically locked room hooked with a terminal with the worst password I could think of._

 _Also, they had a robot in there, Protectron series. Second I've seen so far, the first being 'Deputy weld', the robot guarding megaton's entrance._

 _I don't think they had access to anything with a lock._

 _We talked on the way back. She taught me a few things about this new world. For example, there's a two-headed cow mutant that's called Brahmin, and while its meat is full with radiation like every other mutated animal, drinking its milk actually does the opposite, just like the 'Rad-Away' medicine, but much more common._

 _And you don't have to inject it. That's a big plus if you ask me._

 _Also, most mammal mutants, the ones I heard of -dogs, cows, molerats and humans- has their skin peeling in different degrees, just like ghouls. But animals mutate over generations, are born with this ghoulish skin trait, and doesn't seem to have their lifespan affected._

 _Ghouls, however, start out as humans and become ghoulified during their lifetime, turn sterile, and basically live forever._

 _Well, not forever._

 _No one here even comes close to that._

 _My point is, (annoyed sigh), they don't die of old age. Now that, has caught my attention. Research required._

 _Sydney and me took… we, took one of the Raiders, one of the worst, back to Megaton with us to soak in radiation. That'll help with Moira's research, and give that sick bastard a bit of what he deserves._

 _(Door opens)_

 _(Another speaker) You can see her now._

 _(Record cuts)_

...

Sydney sat on the counter, with a bandage where the bullet pierced her leg. Parts of her machine gun, along with one of her boots were concentrated near her thigh, and she held the open body of the weapon on her lap, going over its insides with a cloth.

"...In short, I don't think this sort of places can be of use to anyone. If it wasn't a raider base, I bet it would have been completely empty. In fact, I don't think any of what's in there was there when the bombs fell." Raph frowned. "The supplies, that is."

"You mean the raiders brought it all?" Moira suggested. She was frantically writing down in her notebook throughout the entire conversation. Sydney was getting tired of the redundancy that flooded the room. Who cares how something got somewhere? A building full of crazy heavily armed Raiders is not a good place to be in, period.

She wanted them both to shut up, but out of good manners decided to keep quiet, keeping herself busy with her weapon instead.

He nodded. "That." Once he became used to the eccentric scientist, he found it much easier to talk to her.

"Also, your doctor's a jerk." Sydney interrupted. The guard raised an eyebrow at her statement. Never saying a single word, it was easy to forget his presence. "Oh, don't give me that look. You know it's true." She pointed a sooty hand at him.

Raph looked at her. For some reason, she reminded him of Paul at the moment.

Sydney returned his look with a confident smile and a raised brow.

This guy was moving back and forth between stuttering and fluent (although awkward) speech, ignoring actions that made other men blush, and when he wasn't frowning, he was constantly blank faced. She didn't let him see it, but this guy was driving her nuts.

Not knowing how to interpret her behavior, Raph turned his attention back to Moira.

Sydney wanted to scream.

…

 _Raph had all his attention focused on Floyd, a bald, awkward man in his thirties. He was currently explaining the principle of the Torque and Raph was charmed. Intoxicated even. Every word was crystal clear, combining together into a carefully constructed grasp of the concept._

 _Having someone teach him was way better than books, and engineering is even more intriguing than he initially thought._

 _He looked down to see an open notebook, his old notebook, showing an exact copy of the sketch that was currently shown on the classroom's board, along with numerous side notes, written in a tiny, tidy handwriting. His hands were drawing the finishing touches._

 _His hands. They were covered by the sleeves of a regular, soft, stretchy Vault jumpsuit._

 _He frowned. He didn't remember taking off the hardened-fiber suit. That's when he noticed he had a large, bulky computer on his hand. His old Pip-boy._

 _Also, the air in that classroom was cool and less humid than Megaton's. Air conditioning._

 _He averted his gaze from the board. The classroom had metal walls, and was lit by fluorescent lights. The Vault._

 _How did I get here?_

" _Not bad."_

 _Raph looked to his right, to see a muscular, dark skinned teenager sitting next to him, eyeing his sketch. He had dark brown eyes, black, short and silky hair, and his getup was identical to Raph's, minus the size._

 _Paul._

 _Or rather, sixteen-years-old Paul._

 _He was still taller than Raph._

" _You're actually getting any of this?" He whispered, gesturing towards the teaching board._

 _Raph nodded. "It's pretty simple, actually." he whispered back slowly. Splitting his attention required a lot more concentration than having to focus on one task. His own voice sounded strange to him. Higher pitched._

 _Paul snorted. "To you, maybe."_

 _Raph looked at Floyd, which went on to the final details of the Torque, the ones Raph already figured out by himself, seemingly oblivious to their conversation. He and Paul never actually got along, but that was always when Butch was around. With the jerk nowhere in sight, Paul was actually a nice person._

 _Not breaking eye contact from their teacher, Raph leaned towards his future friend. "Give me five minutes after class and I promise you you'll know it better than Floyd himself." He whispered as a shorter, simpler version of the lesson already began building up in his head._

" _Thanks, man." Paul gave the doctor's son a pat on the back. Raph nearly choked._

...

Raph, in blue shorts and a white T-shirt, woke up to the sound of his pip-device's alarm clock.

He smiled at the memory - that's when he and Paul became 'besties', as Paul called it at times, when he was in his 'silly mood'.

He chuckled. When Paul had his 'silly mood', it was so contagious that the two of them would just go on and make dumb jokes for hours. Amata always claimed that they were being unnecessarily stupid, then join herself.

He sighed. Good times.

The PD's alarm was becoming a nuisance. He squinted as the light from the screen blinded him, so he had to go by memory, pressing a few buttons until he managed to set the brightness to minimum, allowing him to read the display clearly and disable that annoying sound. He really needs to program something more pleasant.

The device's screen showed "3 AM." In giant letters.

The ex-dweller laid the device on the mattress he was sleeping on. He stared at the wall of his new apartment, considering going back to sleep and forget about the whole thing.

"Just get up." he murmured to himself.

He donned his suit, along with his boots and gloves. He scratched the side of his ribs, wondering how people can get around with such poor hygiene. Grabbing the improvised crutch he made for Sydney, he went over to the couch where she was sleeping, still in full gear. He reached out a hand towards her shoulder when she turned to look at him.

He pulled his hand back. "Did you get any sleep?" He whispered, although he regretted the question the moment it slipped from his lips.

She shook her head. Of course she didn't.

He handed her the crutch, then sat beside her to help her up. She pushed him away. "I'm fine." She greeted, but the struggle it took her to stand was notable even to him.

Somewhat offended, he approached his table, where his vest and helmet were laying. He wore the vest with a reluctant sigh. He stared at the helmet, contemplating, then decided to leave it.

He opened the back room, where his prisoner sat. The scum was now shaking and drenched in cold sweat, as his body suffered from the withdrawal effect of God knows what.

"Get up!" He barked at the human filth, chuckling at himself for still referring to that asshole as 'human'.

The raider squirmed until Raph put his laser pistol to his back. The scum froze as Raph tried to think of something intimidating to say.

"Cause any trouble, and you'll get the same treatment you gave that girl." He flipped the pistol's switch, which hummed to life in response. The raider tensed.

With one hand firmly grasping the raider's collar, and the other holding the pistol against his back, Raph walked to the center of Megaton's crater, with Sydney lagging behind.

It was nighttime and the citizens of megaton were asleep, which was a good thing, considering what he was about to do.

Raph stepped closer to the bomb's green puddle, holding his PD as far as possible from his body. The device began ticking about half an inch from the glowing liquid.

Raph nudged the raider's back, keeping his own feet out of the radioactive puddle.

The raider whined, as the warm, gooey liquid made him quickly realize he was stepping in something he would have preferred to steer clear of.

Raph kicked the back of the sadist's knee, forcing him to fall on all fours. "Shut up." he greeted. "Turn around."

The raider got one knee under him, then fell back and splashed some of the goo around, startled, as a red beam zoomed an inch from his head.

"I didn't tell you to stand up."

At this point the man began to sob. "Please..." he whimpered.

The man was handicapped, blindfolded, barefoot, only wearing trunks, shaking, and covered with cold sweat.

Raph lowered the gun. It felt wrong. It felt... bad. He didn't want to do this.

Sydney snapped. "You should have thought of it before you found that girl, cut off her god-damn limbs! -" she was pacing towards the raider at an alarming speed, ignoring the pain, which made white spots appear in her vision. "Then FUCKED HER-!" The dweller boy wrapped his hands around her, keeping her from lunging at the raider. "-WHILE SHE WAS BLEEDING TO DEATH!" She stopped struggling, giving Raph a stern look. He let her go.

Raph smelled blood. Looking down, he saw her bandages were staining red.

Sydney turned back to the whining scum. "Now open wide, asshole, because karma is a bitch." She turned her back to them both. "Do it." She whispered, hugging herself.

The scum lunged forward, tackling Raph to the ground. Embracing the void, Raph punched him in the throat and pushed him of off him without as much as a blink, then kicked him back into the pool.

The ex-vault dweller had his leg on the scum's head, forcing him to choke on the radioactive material. The raider flailed and squirmed, his limbs uselessly splashing in the green goo. Raph heard gagging as the raider's efforts became weaker, eventually stopping.

…

Raph knocked on Craterside's door, practically hammered on it. The redhead cracked open the door. "Can you comebacklater?" She yawned. "Even geniuses need their sleep."

"Your test subject's right here." Raph nodded towards the Protectron, which in response dropped the glowing raider at her doorstep. She was surprised, to say the least. "I can't keep him any longer."

The redhead disappeared into the room, then opened the door completely. Her messy hair was loose, awkwardly resting on her back, and she was wearing blue pajama pants with a khaki tank top. She began inspecting the Raider's iris with a gloved hand.

"Maybe you shouldn't do that out here." Sydney looked around nervously. Raph nodded.

"Hmm?" The redhead mused. "Oh, I suppose you're right." She dragged the unconscious man from his limp hand, dropped him on the floor in the middle of her shop, and returned to her subject's inspection.

"Raph." Sydney grabbed his shoulder. With some effort, he averted his attention from Moira's work. Sydney seemed stressed.

"Your hands." she gestured with her head. He looked down, seeing that they were covered with the radioactive substance, along with a part of his suit. "Uh, Moira?!"

"What is it?" She asked cheerily, still inspecting the raider.

"I need something to clean this, preferably quickly." he urged.

She looked up, visibly irritated for having to stop her work. "Oh, you make a mountain out of a molehill." she complained. She went to the back of the store, pulled out a container from a shelf and a cloth from a drawer, and spilled some of the container's contents on the cloth. "Here, Abraxo cleaner with some of my radiation dissipating solution." She handed it to the armored ex-dweller, pushing him and Sydney towards the door. "Now out with you two, I have work to do!"

The two exchanged looks as the Craterside's door was shut in their faces.

Raph, having finished with the cleaning surprisingly fast thanks to the scientist's plain looking substance, examined the catwalk which spiraled down to the town's bottom, then looked at Sydney again. Blood began dripping from her wound, and her face was pale. The Stimpaks were getting to her. He of all people should know how much they weaken the user.

"...You …You want help?" He asked carefully, unable to interpret her earlier reaction to the offer. He reached out his hand.

She stared at the catwalk for a long moment, then exhaled, nodding with closed eyes.

He gently wrapped his hand around her waist, and she put hers on his shoulders. She was soft, almost fragile. And she smelled nice.

 _Just focus on getting down from here._

The two carefully paced down the catwalk. One frustrated for being so needy, and the other conflicted for liking it.

* * *

 **A/N: Been helluva long while. Life's a bitch, has a way of getting free time to vanish.**

 **I've been back to writing lately, so I have a few more chaps waiting for beta, but I'm going to get into a tight schedule again soon. It hurts me more than it hurts you. Or in this case, REALLY pisses me off.**

 **I did NOT abandon this story. This is the one I just must see through. You can count on that.**

 **To my awesome, awesome reviewers: You're what's keeping me going. Interactions with the readers, hearing your thoughts, opinions, likes and dislikes is the best reward an author can get. Keep up the awesome!**


	12. Unwanted answers

_23.8.2277 23:04_

 _Megaton, my apartment._

 _Moira and I have discussed possible methods of acquiring food in the wasteland (aside from buying it, obviously), and deducted that hunting may be the safest way. Hunting research required._

 _Scavenging could be useful only if you're extra lucky, otherwise you'll end up with nothing more than dust for dinner, or worse - at the end of a gun. If it wasn't for Sydney, I'd be dead by now._

 _Pre-war food, what little of it that has survived those two-hundred years, is preserved using a special technique which became popular a little before the bombs fell, given its relative commonness. I can't think of any other reason for it to stay relatively fresh in those cans even two centuries later. I'm pretty sure it's the same technique used in the manufacturing of the food stored back in the Vault._

 _But one thing I'm positive about: the preserved food is not everything people back then ate, even those who purchased their food instead of growing and making it themselves. There's just no way - the mass produced canned food isn't nearly as nutritious as the Vault's especially manufactured one._

 _Moira gave me the key to the apartment she rented for me. A tiny house at the crater's bottom. From what Sydney has told me, that's more than most wastelanders can dream of, so it's enough for me. It's rusty though, overflows with dust, and the door's lock is a joke. I don't know why I'm surprised, though. The house is going to take a lot of work, but I'm not planning on doing it while Sydney's around. She needs to rest and let her leg heal. Besides, her experience in the… 'Wastes' -it's gonna take a while to get used to the slangs here-… is more than enough to keep me distracted from the enormous amount of dust and... oh f*** that, I'm getting a broom-_

 _(Recording cuts)_

 _24.8.2277, 00:48_

 _Megaton, my apartment._

 _Okay! Now that the place is at least somewhat clean, I can concentrate._

 _...Sort of._

 _We kept the raider hidden just outside of the town until dark. It wasn't the smartest option if we were planning to keep him around, but it was the best choice if we wanted to keep our… business… with him discreet. Luckily, he was too afraid to attempt an escape._

 _The fact he was all tied up didn't help, either._

 _We got him so irradiated he began glowing. I couldn't help the feeling that it was wrong. I don't know why, the asshole deserves it. But… still._

 _Moira was… enthusiased, (talks to the side) is enthusiased a word?_

 _(Distant female voice): ...You're seriously asking me?_

 _(Speaker turns back to device.) Moira was enthusiased to have the raider as her experimental puppet. Let's just hope she's smart enough to keep quiet about it._

 _The toilets in this town are a joke. I don't think they even have a sewer system. Lucky for me that the Vault's library contains, among other things, camping books. Found a nice bunch of boulders that are tall enough to allow some privacy._

 _(Distant female voice.) Gross. (Chuckles.)_

 _(Speaker sigh, footsteps, door closes.) The fiber suit got torn, so my legs got sunburned. I have read of UV rays over-exposure, but I never imagined how unpleasant it is. Combined with the multiple cuts, it's a real nuisance._

 _Combining the scavenged food with a generous portion of Moira's last food shipment as my payment for this part of the Wasteland Survival Guide chapter, I have enough to last for both of us for about two weeks. The least I can do for her after she saved my life is take care of Syd while she heals from the bullet_ _ **she took**_ _for_ _ **me**_ _._

 _Not having to worry about food left me with enough money to purchase a few extra Stimpaks for her, hopefully it'll be enough._

 _I think Paul and Sydney would have gone along pretty well, like Amata and I did. Her behavior strikes quite a resemblance to his._

…

 _Raph?_

The dweller mumbled something that resembled words, although not really, then rolled to the other side.

 _Raph._

Out of instinct, he tried pushing whatever that was bothering him away, but his hand touched nothing but thin air.

"RAPH!"

There was a moment of silence before something hard hit his face. Raph jumped out of his bed, startled and dizzy.

He was at his apartment, and no assailant was in sight. His nose was throbbing.

"Turn that shit _off_!" Sydney yelled from her bed, a hand over her face.

Confused, he turned to his bed. That's when he noticed his PD alarm was going off. He turned it off.

"Fucking _Lord_ that sound is annoying." she slurred.

She was currently lying on her side with her legs folded near her chest, wearing her army undershirt, and her army pants, kneecaps and one boot.

One boot.

Raph stared at the other boot which now innocently laid on his bed. His nose was still throbbing.

"I did _not_ deserve that." He protested, wiping his eyes which were tearing up, and began sneezing frantically.

"Yes." She yawned. "Yes you did." she still had one hand on her eyes.

He sniffed, mentally grumbling between the sneezings. With no point going back to sleep, he began dressing up, picking his old suit this time. Buckling his boots, he thought about how he really missed normal shoes. He sneezed once more.

"You know, I've been thinking." He folded the trouser up, the one that remained whole, to even it with the torn one.

She mused noncommittally. "You can do that?"

"Of course I can, all humans c-" He shook his head, she giggled. "-what I've been trying to say, is that I thought about our talk the other day."

"The only other day." she didn't change position.

"You know what I… for crying out loud, let me finish a goddamn sentence."

She smirked to herself, still half asleep. "Go on."

"You said my father left for a reason."

"...Yeah...?"

"What makes it any different than yours?"

"I have no idea what you're trying to say."

"I…" _What am I trying to say?_ He sighed. _She's doing it again. Focus_. "Maybe your father didn't abandon you like you think. Maybe your father had a good reason as well."

She snorted. "Yeah, right."

He rolled up the whole sleeve of his jumpsuit to match the ruined one. "Think about it, why not?"

She sat up. "A," She raised a finger. "Your dad left you a note. And B," she raised a second finger, then rested her chin on her palm. "...I don't really have a second argument. But I think it's more than enough to make a difference."

"But out here, this… Wasteland, is nothing like the Vault."

She gasped. " _Really?_ "

He almost answered that, then rolled his eyes. _Sarcasm._ "My father-"

"Oh my _god_ , please say 'dad'."

"My… dad, left me a note, because he could afford it. He was safe, and he had both the resources and the time to calmly, carefully plan his… disappearance." He let his words sink in. Another thing Amata taught him. "Out here in the wasteland-"

"-The wastes-"

"-The wastes, so much is happening all the time. Everything is constantly fluctuating-"

"Flaming-what-now?"

"Changing. Everything's so chaotic, so many unexpected events at once…" he frowned. "Where was I going with this?" She interrupted him so many times he lost his line of thought.

"My a-hole of a dad's disappearing."

"Yes. Maybe your father-"

"-dad."

He glared at her.

She snickered. "Sorry."

"As I was saying, maybe your dad simply couldn't leave a message. Didn't have the means, had to leave on a short notice. Maybe something came up, or maybe… something happened to him."

"Maybe…" she sighed.

Raph sat down next to her, and put his hand on her shoulder, like Amata taught him to do when he saw a girl sad. Unaware of how much impact that simple gesture had, or how close he was to get smacked.

Sydney tensed momentarily, then relaxed, laying her head on his shoulder.

…

Raph entered the Saloon. It was relatively empty at this time of the day. Gob was in his usual spot. Raph nodded, and the ghoul nodded back, refraining from eye contact.

Among other people, stood out a man with long, whitish grey hair, in a surprisingly clean light grey shirt, and a neat black jacket. Raph recognized him from the description.

"Moriarty?"

The man turned to him with a smile that made Raph shiver. "The one and only, at your service." He spoke in a light tone, and a strange accent.

 _I guess that's Scottish?_

"Welcome to my slice of heaven in this backwoods little burg." he gestured with a light bow, like an actor in front of a familiar crowd.

Raph didn't understand half of those expressions.

"If you got the caps, I've got the pleasure. Please, sit down, make yourself comfortable. Your troubles are a thing of the past."

…" _Troubles are a thing of the past." whatever the hell that means._ Raph sat at the counter, mostly because he didn't want his behavior to be interpreted as rude. He's sat slowly, with rigid shoulders, and his back was more tense than a loaded spring.

He then mentally nodded. _Alcohol, dumbass. This is a Saloon. You have read of those._ "My name… is Raph." he extended his hand for a shake. _Good, good. No stuttering._ "I... understand you... have s-spoken to my father." _dammit._

The Scottish man shook his hand, a bit too firmly. "May be lad, may be. But lemme tel ya, lots of folks come and go here. Perhaps you can... jog my memory?" he rubbed his finger and thumb together.

Raph took a deep breath. "Late forties... named James..."

The Irish man raised a brow at the teen's ignorance, before recognition was lit in the Saloon owner's eyes, but went unnoticed by the ex dweller, who went on with the description. "Vault suit, Pip-boy… Typical Vault gettup?"

Moriarty scanned the teen from head to toe, which made Raph feel uncomfortable. "My god, it's _you_ … The little baby boy, all grown up! Persistent little bastard, aren't ya?"

Raph stared blankly. His assumption was correct. He didn't originate from the Vault. He knew how his father and him looked alike. The recognition only confirmed his assumptions.

But...Why? More importantly, why didn't his dad tell him?

"Your daddy passed through here, all right. Here and gone. I'm assuming you'll do the same," he gave the teen a meaningful look. " _Correct_?"

Raph pinched his nose bridge. He didn't know what, but something in this guy's tone was ominous. "Yes. Probably. Maybe. No. I don't know." He resisted the need to rub his temples. _You're not making any sense, focus._ "Do you know where he is?"

The Saloon owner leaned on the wall, smiling. _Amused, maybe?_

"You seem like a nice kid, so I'm gonna be straight with ya. Your dad was here, and now he's not,"

 _No shit, Sherlock._

He folded his arms. "And yes, I know where he went. But what you're asking is information, and information is a commodity."

Raph grimaced at him. _A_ _ **what**_ _?!_

The old man rubbed his chin. "Let's say… one hundred caps, and daddy's location is yours. Very reasonable."

 _That's the cost of three meals!_

 _...Or one big meal, it really depends how you ration-_

 _That's not the point! This guy wants a payment of a whole day worth of food!_

He wanted to punch that annoying smirk out of that smug bastard's face. He wanted to yell at him. He wanted to choke it out of him. _Who holds such information captive!?_

But all he managed to do is scan the floor and mumble. "I don't have that much money…"

"All right kid. Then I guess there's nothing else we have to say to each other. Come back when you have the caps, and we'll talk." he turned to another customer who just entered the Saloon, while Raph stared daggers into his back.

Eventually he gave up trying to blow up the Saloon owner's head with his mind, and went to sit at the counter, in front of Gob.

"Hey kid. Can I get you something?" The ghoul rasped.

Raph looked up. "Maybe. Can you do something about _him_?" He whispered, lightly gesturing with his head towards Moriarty, something he learned from Paul. "Crack open his skull or something, so I can know where _my own father_ went?"

Gob's eyes went as wide as a Vault's gate, and he briefly glanced towards their surroundings, then at the Saloon owner himself, and back at the frustrated teenager. He sighed with relief when no one seemed to notice his words.

"How about a drink?" He offered.

Raph shook his head. He was completely out of bottle caps, so he couldn't even if he wanted to. And he _really_ didn't want to. "No, thanks." he sighed, frustrated.

An eye-patched man and a woman with short red hair toasted a glass full of hazel liquid.

Another girl was talking about some wild adventure Raph didn't bother listening to, and regretted that decision when her friend burst out in crude laughter.

A bald man with a sour face was sitting at the corner of the table, downing something strong enough to make Raph sneeze just from its smell, and forcefully slammed the metallic glass on the counter.

Raph eyed the glass, fighting the urge to cover his nose. "Sorry if I was nosy the other day. It's just that, your… condition. It's fascinating." he told the bartender.

The ghoul shrugged, pulling a large bottle from under the counter and poured some into the glass. "You're the first one who was actually nice to me since I got here, so it's a win-win, really."

The bald man took the drink back to his sit while glaring wide-eyed at the ghoul, making Gob flinch.

Raph nodded absentmindedly. "Do you know where I can get a job?"

"I heard Walter is looking for help." The ghoul began arranging the various drinks.

Raph slowly shook his head. "And Walter would be..?"

"Hm?" Gob raised his head to see the kid's blank expression. "Oh, right. Forgot you're new. Walter is the one in charge of the water plant."

Raph went over the rusty pipes in his head. It made sense. Quite a handful, and if no one volunteered to help him this far, it should pay well. "Great. Thank you Gob."

"Don't mention it." The Ghoul shrugged. Raph thought he's doing it often. "Don't you work for Moira?"

Raph nodded briefly. "I am, but now she's working on her... radiation-" He coughed. "-Chapter, and there's _just no talking to her_."

The bartender finished arranging the drinks, and proceeded to clean dirty glasses.

Raph frowned. "I thought you'd have something to comment on that."

"Like what?"

"I don't know… Something among the lines of 'yeah, she does that.' or 'you know what she's like'."

"I don't really know her." he rasped. Raph could swear that if Gob's tone had shoulders, it would have shrugged too.

"How's that? This town is smaller than the Vault."

"So?"

"Back in the Vault, everybody knows each other."

The girl laughed again, and a few more customers entered the Saloon. Gob didn't need more than a short glimpse, and began putting different drinks on the counter, as the customers took them without exchanging a single word, leaving bottle caps on the counter.

Raph followed that exchange, feeling as if there's something odd about it. "Uh.. what was that?"

"Steady customers." Gob's tone shrugged.

"You didn't even talk…" _You're the first one who was actually nice to me._ "Oh."

They sat in comfortable silence, as megaton residents talked about their day, cursed, laughed, and mainly complained about the life in the wasteland. Drinks were toasted, and bottles were emptied.

Gob finally broke their silence. "In the Vault you were stuck together. Megaton is just another place in a very, _very_ big Wasteland."

 _True, but…_ "But… you _live_ here. And so does she." He frowned. "... right?"

Gob shrugged, and Raph almost rolled his eyes. "I don't get out much." he rasped.

He looked over at Moriarty, then back at Gob. He frowned. "Why-"

The ghoul averted his gaze. Raph's experience taught him that this usually means _I've lost interest_ or _there's something in that direction that has caught my attention._ Raph turned his head to the direction the ghoul was looking.

A rusty metal wall.

Absolutely _fascinating_.

He returned his gaze to see the ghoul fiddling with the drinks again. That's when he remembered Amata taught him that look, in certain context, could also mean _I don't want to talk about it._

"Gob…?"

The ghoul sighed, which still sounded strange with his coarse voice. "This world is not as black and white as you think it is, kid."

…

Raphael stepped inside the water plant. It was nothing special, another rusty room made from scrap inside a rusty town made of scraps. But the main difference was the gigantic, loud, and (unavoidably) rusty casing, probably protecting the engine of a goddamn airplane judging by the noise. That's when Raphael realized he couldn't hear more than gentle humming while standing outside. Maybe things are not as half-assed as they seem.

He circled the giant machine a couple of times, and nearly jumped out of his skin when a hand touched his back. He turned to see an old man, pointing at his ear, then at the entrance. He exited the building, motioning him to follow. As the door closed behind, the engine's roar was immediately reduced to a hum.

"No respect these days..." he heard the man mumble. Then a surprised look appeared on his wrinkled features, as if he said too much. He was dark skinned, like Lucas, and wrinkled.

Well, in comparison.

He also had short cut hair, and an impressive beard, reaching down to his sternum. Both his hair and his beard were white, with few grey streaks. He wore a blue jumpsuit similar to Moira's, with _Robco Inc_ on the right chest pocket. The suit was somewhat baggy, unlike the tight Vault jumpsuits. "Care to explain what were you doing inside my plant without permission, boy?" his voice was high pitched, a major contrast to the Sheriff's.

"Walter?"

The man squinted. "Who's asking?"

 _Is that a yes?_ "My name is Rough. Raph!" He exhaled. "I understand- I understand-" _Shut up. Relax. Breathe._ "I heard you need help with the…" _with the…_ his mind came to a halt. "Pipes." he finally said, offering his hand, as he felt sweat trickling down his neck.

"Well, I'll be!" The old man shook it. "And here I thought you're just another brat that's barging into my plant and trying to get himself hurt." His hand was solid, and in contrary to his old, somewhat fragile appearance, he had quite a grip. Raph was relieved when the man released his palm. "I'm telling you, one of these days someone is going to get hurt, it's dangerous equipment I'm working with. And who are they going to blame…?" The man motioned the teen to follow him. "You're expecting payment, right? Here's what I need you to do…"

…

The sun was descending in the horizon when Raph finished Walter's task. The leaking pipes were an issue, as he thought, and Raph caused himself a mild headache coming up with a way to repair them with nothing but duct tape and a tiny arc welder. After that, it wasn't too hard to improvise a faucet in the leak that he used to take a shower a few days earlier. To distract himself from the screaming of his muscles, he filled his head with possible ways to make the water purification system more efficient. He was already sketching hypothetical blueprints in his head of a car-engine-powered-pump as he paced through the front door of Moriarty's Saloon.

He was immediately flooded by the scent of alcohol, but this time it didn't take him by surprise. Underwhelmed, he realised that his sense of smell has been dulled. When he first arrived in Megaton, he found the entire town unbearable. But now he didn't even notice the stench.

He strolled inside, quickly finding the Irish man wickedly grinning at him. "Well, look who came _crawlin_ ' buck!"

Raph ignored, mainly because he didn't know how to respond to it. "Here's your caps. One hundred, as agreed." he handed a purse full of tinkling metal objects to the man.

The Irish man inspected the purse nonchalantly, leaving Raph's hand hanging. "That's really kind of you lad, but it's not enough."

Raph sighed. "You can count them if you want to. I can wait."

Moriarty tilted his head back, laughing out loud, and Raph slowly pulled his hand back. A few heads were turned, trying to see what's the sudden noise is all about.

"You really are something, lad. But when I said it ain't gonna cut it, it's because it ain't gonna cut it." he leaned on the wall.

Raph stared at the man, blank faced.

"He means he wants more money." Gob deadpanned, and flinched when Moriarty fired a malicious glare at him. The ghoul went back to cleaning the counter, somewhat more energetically.

The man returned his gaze to the teen. "He _is_ right though. I'd say three hundred is a fair price."

"But you said one hundred!"

"You really are thick, are you boy? I said one hundred _before_. _Now_ it's three hundred. You better sober up, boy. You wouldn't want anyone… taking advantage of ya, now," he gave the teen a meaningful look. "Do you?"

Raph didn't answer.

Moriarty folded his hands on his chest. "Three hundred, or you can find someone else to tell you about your Vault daddy's whereabouts."

A tall, wide built man, with a surprisingly kempt beard turned his head at the mention of the Vault. "Exyoose me lad." he sat near one of the small, round tables near the Saloon's entrance. "You say looking fo' James?" He asked with a heavy, coarse accent Raph didn't know. "James Johnson?"

Moriarty's expression that moment was priceless. Raph's hopes rocketed sky high. "You know him?"

He shook his head. "I knuw him. Good fella." He raised his bottle to the ceiling, as if toasting to God himself, then began gulping it down.

 _knew?_

The man halted his drinking momentarily, motioned to the chair in front of him. "Sit down, you'll tank me."

Raph slowly sat down, not sure if he actually wants to know anymore.

"I wos making my way towads Rivet City, he wanted to go to GNR radio station. Our paths met, so we travelled together." The man chugged the rest of the bottle, slamming it down on the table.

 _GNR, that's… Galaxy News Radio. The station with the guy with the weird name? Three dog._

"We made the night in DC ruins. The area is sworming with super mutants." The man opened another bottle, and began downing it as well.

Raph eyed the man's drink. _That can't be good for his health._ "Super...what?"

"Giant green man. Nusty littl' buggas. Attacked us in the middle of the goddamn night, they caught the building on fire. James, the crazy wanka, went back to the flames. Claiming he forgot his research paepa or somethin'." He finished the second bottle. "The whole thing came down. Never came beack." he slammed the bottle on the table. Only now Raph noticed Gob was taking the empty bottles, replacing them with new ones. He felt dizzy. It's a good thing he was already sitting.

"That _truly_ is unfortunate." Moriarty retorted.

Raph didn't notice. "No. That's… that's not possible. He wouldn't risk himself like that." _Who am I kidding? Of course he will._

The man slammed yet _another_ bottle on the table, eyeing him. "You say I'm lying, mate?"

"No, just… Maybe he figured a way out? A back door, or, or something?"

"I searched that wreck before making the night, see what I'm dealing with." The man shook his head. "Thea wos no back doa." he put one heavy arm on the teen's shoulder. "I'm sorry lad."

Raph's face darkened. "No… don't be. I…" he felt tears welling up his sight. "I guess I already knew." He walked to the doors, stopping with a hand on the door handle. "Thank you."

…

He dragged himself back to his apartment. _Dad is dead._ He remembered the pain, back in the Vault. When he got shot multiple times, and almost lost a lethal amount of blood. But he didn't die. He couldn't _let_ himself die. Why?

 _Because dad needed me._

Or so he convinced himself, but not anymore. No one needs him now. He felt earth's gravity tenfold as strong. Whatever held him back at the Vault as he defied death itself (or so it felt) was gone. Although they were long gone, he could feel all of the bullet wounds again, piercing him in odd angles, pulling him down. _Dad is dead. Amata? Probably shot to death._ He flinched as he remembered the sharp, explosive sounds of the gunfire, muffled by a few feet of cold, reinforced metal. Her crazy father knew exactly who his friends was, and the fact that one of them was his daughter didn't stop him. How much of a chance, then, does this leave to Paul?  
What does he have left?

He nearly crawled into his apartment. His legs were magnetized to the floor.

He opened the door to find Sydney, still in her army pants. But this time she was barefoot, her kneecaps rested on top of her armor which was neatly folded on the floor beside her, and instead of the military green undershirt, she wore a very flattering tank top, and she was reading his book, the one he took from the Vault.

She lifted her gaze. "Hey there!" She sat up, setting the book aside. "You know, at first I didn't know what to think when I found this. This Frodo guy is pretty plain. Sam's nice, but I think it wouldn't hurt for him to have a little more…" she spun her palm. "Balls." She smiled, and, for a moment, he felt lighter. "But I like Gimli's straightforward attitude. I mean, when he tried to smash the ring-" she went silent, seeing him toppling towards his bed. "You alright?"

 _He was in his room. His childhood room. Crying on his bed. Butch had said some things about his father. Mean things. How would he react if someone would have talked this way about his mother?_

 _He was dumb enough to say that out loud._

 _When he heard the pneumatic hiss of his room's door, he didn't need to look to know it's Amata. Dad was busy today._

 _She sat beside him. They were fourteen, and the anatomical differences between them began showing, mainly on her. He, as always, was oblivious._

 _"Hey." she whispered. "Are you okay?"_

 _He stopped crying. Her presence, and knowing that someone cares, was an immediate relief. But he didn't respond._

 _"Do you want to talk about it?"_

 _He didn't respond._

 _"Raph." she touched his shoulder, shaking him gently. "I know you're awake."_

 _She eyed him. "Raph. Don't be a jerk."_

 _She waited about half a minute, before he heard her sneer "Fine!" while stomping towards the door. "Be a jerk if you want to!"_

 _They met the day after, and he approached her after class. She looked the other way when she saw him coming, with an expression he thought was sour. "Why were you mad yesterday?"_

 _She didn't respond._

" _Amata?"_

" _Because you were being a jerk!"_

 _He blinked. "Was I?"_

 _Was he?_

 _A few kids laughed, followed by Mister Brotch rebuking them. Raph ignored, keeping his attention focused on his friend._

 _She broke the silence eventually. "I get that you were mad, but I was trying to help, and you completely ignored me!"_

" _I enjoyed your company, and didn't feel like talking. What did I do wrong?"_

" _Raph…" She pinched her nose bridge. "Some things need to be said out loud."_

It took Amata time to forgive him. Or maybe she just wanted to prove a point. Either way, that was before she nominated herself as his _official_ social skills teacher.

Sydney's gaze rested on him. "What happened?"

He shook his head. "I... I don't want to talk about it." He crash landed into the Somewhat-less-filthy-after-spending-hours-cleaning-it mattress he now called a 'bed'.

She got up. Barely. He heard her struggle, but when he turned to her she was already on her feet.

She sat on his bed, her thighs touching the side of his stomach. Amata used to say that if a girl is sitting this close it means she feels comfortable.

 _That's a good sign… I guess._

She reeked of sweat, like him, and desperately needed a shower. Like him. But he still found her scent, the scent of a human, this close, pleasant. Even comforting.

"Look, Raph, we both have been through hell. You can talk to me."

He stayed silent for a few moments.

"Well," she scrambled up. "If you'll ever feel like it." She said cheerfully, as if by-the-way.  
"Wait." he mumbled. She smirked, sitting down next to him once again.

He sat up, sighing. "I just found out… that my... father died." He leaned his elbows on his knees, a gesture he copied off of Paul, while eyeing the floor.

He was surprised to find her hands wrapped around his torso, and her cheek on his shoulder. He hugged her back. "I tried asking Moriarty of him, and this other guy told me he traveled with him… the other guy and my dad, that is. They made the night in D.C ruins…" he paused as he heard her gasp softly. "They were attacked." He took a deep, shaky breath.

"Super mutants?"

He nodded. "His description of my dad was pretty accurate."

She stayed quiet for a minute, contemplating her next words. They could hear the chatter of people, the mooing of a mutant two headed cow, and their own breathing.

Raph mentally shivered when he remembered seeing that cow when he first arrived. Skin missing to a nauseating degree, which he began referring to as ghoulish, sickishly skinny, no fur whatsoever, not even the thin layer of fluff he read that cows are suppose to have.

Unless you count strands of single hairs at odd spots. Brahmin, that's what people called it. Mutant cow is too long, apparently, so they stuck it with a Hinduism term for a name instead. And it's skin was so… _pink_ , the ill kind. Why does it always have to be pink?

He mentally sighed. His coping mechanism started kicking in, distracting him completely. Computers, then Christine's… curves, robots, cleaning, and now… cows. _Mutated_ cows. _Dad, why?_

Sydney spoke, shaking him out if his thoughts. "Losing a parent is difficult." He felt her breath on his neck as she spoke. "I'm here for you."

"Thanks." Raph murmured.

They stayed this way for a couple of minutes before Sydney stood up, and toppled back to her couch, much to his disappointment. But her crutch slipped, and she fell down with a surprised yelp. Raph found himself at her side, putting her hand over his shoulders and helping her up.

She chuckled as he sat her down. "Not one of my most graceful moments." She blew a stray hair from her face, flushed. "I'm sorry for being such a bother."

Raph weakly shook his head. "I owe you that much." _Besides, you give me a purpose._ He almost blurted out.

 _I think she said something._ Raph shook his head. _Pay attention, moron._ "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"Is everything alright in there?" she lightly knocked on the top of his head with her knuckle.

He blinked. "Yeah, just… I just realized something." he briefly kissed her on her forehead. "Thank you." He blurted, then rushed out of the house.

She stared at the door where the eccentric teen stood a mere moment ago. "O...kay." She chuckled, picking up his copy of the Lord of the rings. "I'll leave you to it, then."

 _..._

He found himself heading towards the Saloon once again, before realising it's a bad idea, or just bad timing. Moriarty was outside, leaning on the balcony's railing, watching over the crater with houses on it which people called a 'town'.

He backtracked, doing a one hundred and eighty degree turn, and headed back to his apartment.

 _Might wanna throw in some innocent whistling while you're at it._ He opened the door to find Sydney fast asleep on his couch, her chest slowly raising and dropping, and his copy of 'lord of the rings' by her head.

He tip-toed to his locker, carefully opening the door to avoid creaking, scanning its contents. Two laser pistols, the regular one, power cells both from the Vault and from the mart, regular ammo, and the repair kit.

He grabbed the laser pistols. He paused. _Maybe I shouldn't walk around unarmed._ He put one holster and the Vault's energy weapon on his mattress.

Carefully setting the Mart's pistol on the table, he disassembled the rusty weapon, quickly scanning its insides. He slowly opened the power slot, and slid one of the Vault's power cells inside, tensing up when he accidentally let it go as it clicked into place. While it was usually inaudible, the immense silence made everything louder.

He gazed towards the sleeping figure of the wounded girl. His shoulders relaxed when he didn't see movement, and flipped the switch. The gun gently hummed to life.

Raph frowned when the humming was accompanied with a barely audible beep.

He took his repair kit, carefully setting it on the table, and pulled a cable out of the palm sized briefcase. He plugged one end into his pip-device, and the other to the weapon. Numerous letters flickered on the monitor with immense speed, before Coming to a halt.

 **-Wattz Electronics™ AEP7 Personal laser pistol**

 **Self_test status Complete**

 **0.13 mAh drawn, ÷0.089 mAh detected at hull. %31.5 loss.**

 **Chamber status_ERROR**

 **ERROR**

 **ERROR**

 **Press any key to continue_**

He kept reading, changed a few settings, and ran the test again. He slowly picked up the weapon, opened the cell slot, and gently flipped the gun, the cell dropping into his open palm, and opened the weapon's body. With his finger and thumb, he grabbed a capacitor, and with some effort, wiggled it out, holding it at eye level, inspecting the tiny cylindrical object before setting it aside.

He ran self testing again, getting slightly better results without the faulty capacitor. He tweaked the power management settings of the energy weapon, trying to adjust the weapon to work without the capacitor, and ran self test. He repeated the process, tweaking and testing, until he was satisfied with the displayed results.

Turning away from the weapons, he took a tiny voltage tester, and connected its wirings to the energy cells, and repeated the process with the other cell he found at the market.

After putting everything back into the locker, carefully placing the items on top of each other, he took off his boots and laid down on his mattress. He sighed, stared at the ceiling and thought about better days.

Probably hours has passed before he finally drafted into a questionable sleep.

* * *

 **A/N: that's all folks! Another chap, as promised. Got a few more where this came from!**

 **Had a lot of fun writing Raph's obliviousness with Moriarty, and the 'boot' scene. Tell me what you think!**

 **English isn't my main language, so I'll be thankful to anyone pointing out mistakes.**

 **To my loyal Reviews, you're** **the best.**

 **Watermelon: Yeah XD, it'll get better.**

 **Bailey: Welcome! Hope you're here to stay**

 **Keep up the awesome!**

 **Shouvin, out.**


	13. Let's get down to business

_24.8.2277_

 _Father's dead. So… (Sigh.) Yeah._

 _(Long moment of silence, footsteps on metal.)_

 _So I met Moriarty, and now I understand what Jenny was talking about when she said 'annoying smug'. This guy is a bastard. He kept my father's location from me, claiming that information is a "commodity". He wanted caps. I found a job, thanks to Gob's help. People here treat him like a criminal, but he did nothing wrong. He does look somewhat frightening, but that's not his fault. I wonder if there's a possibility to reverse his condition._

 _Also I think people wouldn't treat him half as bad if he showered._

 _I think I need to tell him that._

 _Walter, the man in charge of the water plant, is a friendly old man, and very chatty. I prefer listening than talking, especially around new people, so we got along well. The condition of the pipes is not a result of carelessness, but an issue of manpower._

 _I worked all day, fixing these pipes with nothing more than duct tape and an arc welder. I ended up using the welder to cut car platings from the corpses outside of town, dragged it inside, and welded it on the pipes. Had to hammer it into the right shape, too. If I wasn't sore before…_

 _I earned those one hundred with hard work. By helping. I actually enjoyed that, being useful. Those pipes serve the whole town. Maybe I can ask about installing a sewer system… and a normal shower…_

 _(Sigh, footsteps. Distant people chatter.)_

 _Anyway I… Um... (Deep breath, exhale.) Moriarty wanted more money, surprisingly._

 _I found out from a guy named Robert that… (sigh) father is dead. Died in a super mutant attack in an area called D.C. ruins._

 _Didn't need to pay Moriarty. (Bitter, chuckle.) Enjoy the little things, I guess. 'Bright' side of life._

 _Since I… since I pretty much don't have a purpose in life, I decided that my main current priority is to help Sydney, which means supporting her until she heals. (Whispers) Man these catwalks are a maze… (speaks normally) I have miscalculated my rations, relying on the fact that I will cut back on my meals. But being all day on your feet, and living with someone who pretty much relies on Stimpaks really builds up an appetite. I never had to notice this kind of stuff before. That's survival, I guess._

 _(Voice shaking.) I miss Paul. I miss Amata. I… (suppressed sobs.) I miss dad. I just want them back. (Whimpers.) Is it... so much... to ask? To be with the people I love? (Breaks down crying. Record cuts.)_

 _(Record resumes.)_

 _There's plenty of food back in the Mart, (sniff.) so I'm planning another trip there. I have the robot with me, and two backpacks, worst case I can borrow something from Moira. (Cough, nose blow)_

 _There's also a gigantic weapon… (sniff)(whispers.) machine gun? Machine gun. (Speaks regularly) that's probably worth something. Maybe I can carry it here disassembled. Plenty of ammo and other weapons on the Raider's bodies, too. If no one scavenged them already. 'Looting', as Sydney calls it, doesn't feel right, but they are already dead, and it won't hurt to prevent all of that weaponry to fall into the wrong hands. I can sell it to Moira, maybe._

 _(Sigh, speaking slowly and monotonically.) So this is my to-do list: fully repair the robot, get some training from Sydney, practice fighting with the robot, and get a larger backpack before I head out to… "Loot"._

 _(Pause. Distinct chatter, cow's moo.)_

 _I also want to find out how three dog gets his Intel and research mutation, but that's a task for another day. There are more urgent things._

 _But before I start preparing, there's one last thing I need to take care of. (Sigh). Maybe I'm torturing myself but… I need- I need to make sure._

 _(Voice cracking.) Dad. Why were you so_ _ **stupid**_ _?_

* * *

Gob's head nearly hit the counter as he struggled to keep himself awake. The Saloon was empty, minus a man that slept on one of the tables, an empty liquor bottle in his hand, another one smashed on the floor beside him.

Moriarty insisted on having a night shift, and guess who would have to fill them. 'Who knows, you can always fish out new customers. Don't you think, _Gob_?'

Bigot.

His salary was pitiful, low enough for having trouble paying his rent, which Moriarty _surprisingly_ thought he should charge the man, and each day the debt was getting heavier.

Out of pure boredom, he grabbed a broom and began cleaning the floor, not that It would do anything to that shithole, but it helped keeping his mind off of this miserable excuse of a life.

 _I just_ _ **had**_ _to leave underworld._

He had a hard time getting up that day, more than usual, finally realizing he's probably going to spend the rest of his days waiting for Moriarty to die. And he found even _more_ pieces of his old skin on his lame excuse of a bed. Great.

He heard footsteps. The ghoulified man lifted his gaze to see Nova walking down the stairs. He immediately looked back down. Her makeup was smudged, and in contrast to her usual inviting aroma, she smelled horribly. Which meant she was done with yet another 'job'. Also, it wasn't hard to tell that that scent was a bit too much for one person to sweat out. Her red hair was ruffled and her shirt was loosely hanging from her torso, allowing a generous view

The bartender hated when she did it, acting like she can't tell apart between the act she puts up for customers, and her real self. Seeing her go upstairs with countless other men was tough enough for him as it is.

"Morning." Gob rasped.

Nova sighed. "Barely."

"Another snorer?"

The woman took out a napkin. "You have no idea." She chuckled, cleaning her face.

Much like himself, Nova was also stuck with her debt to the bastard. Maybe people was treating Gob like crap, but at least he didn't have to sleep with them for a living.

The saloon's door opened, nearly making the ghoul drop the broom. He breathed. It was just the kid.

"Hey Gob." he said awkwardly, momentarily noticing Nova's shirt before returning his gaze to the bartender.

"Jesus, kid. You nearly made me go change pants." he rasped.

The teen paused, his face as plain as always. "Sorry." he said after a short while.

"Good morning _to you_ too." Nova stressed, giving the kid a meaningful, offended look.

The kid stood there, his eyes locked on the ground. "Hi."

Gob gestured him towards the counter.

Now that kid, he was something else. He was young, probably no older than sixteen, and so. Damn. Naive. Gob felt sorry for him. Sooner or later, someone's gonna take advantage of his ignorance, and he's going to find himself with a bullet hole in his head.

Despite his indifferent appearance, he always seemed… troubled. It was understandable, giving his fish-out-of-water situation, living in the Vault and all. But it has been a couple of days, or maybe weeks, the Ghoulified man didn't really keep track of time, and that distress didn't seem to settle.

Another trait that caught Gob's attention, and sadly, the attention of other people as well, is that the kid wasn't repulsed by his… condition. Hell, he was _intrigued_ , the nutbag. Even Nova, who seemed like the kind of woman that can never be surprised had to get used to him at first.

"What can I help you with?" the ghoul asked.

Raphael was about to answer when two men entered the saloon, arguing loudly.

After spending some time in this town, it was easy for him to tell the difference between town residents and travellers. Mostly because the travellers usually wore rags, or worn out traveling clothes, while the residents, being owner of small businesses and other stable jobs, could afford clothes that actually resembled human attire. And come to think of it, he never saw two travellers talk out in the open. The conversation was really, _really_ loud, yet it didn't really seem like they were arguing.

He wasn't the only one who's attention was drawn. Nova narrowed her eyes at the two, Gob began looking anywhere else, and the drunk that probably spent the night there woke up, stared at the two strangers until his brain finally got to it, wiped the drool off his jaw and left the saloon. The strangers noticed that behavior and ceased their conversation

One of the walked up to Gob. " **One bottle of scotch, please**!" He shouted, putting a handful of caps on the counter.

" _You're five caps short_." The ghoul mumbled.

" **What?** " The man put a hand around his ear.

"I said you're… never mind." He pulled out a large bottle full of a colorless liquid, handing it to the two.

" **Thank you!** " the stranger half said half yelled, the two leaving the Saloon.

Nova rubbed her arms, as if the room's temperature dropped tremendously.

 _Or she just got the shivers_. He mentally frowned. _People do that even when the temperatures are fine, for some reason_.

"O...Kay." Raph shook his head. _Where was I?_

 _Right._

"This guy yesterday… he told me about my dad."

"I've heard. Sorry for your loss."

"I want to make sure… I can't just give up like that."

Gob's stomach sank, feeling he has a good idea where the kid was going with this. "Kid…"

"I need you to tell me what Moriarty knows about my dad."

The ghoul shook his head. "If he catches me, I'm a dead ghoul."

"Gob, _please._ "

The ghoul sighed. "Kid, you heard what he said. I heard. We all did. I've _been_ there. Your old man's dead." He put a hand on the shocked teen's shoulder. "Believe me when I say - I've been around for a while. People die all the time."

"No."

"Look... kid-" "-No!" Raphael slammed his hands on the counter.

Gob flinched, an expression of shock on his skeletal features. Nova's eyebrows went so high up her forehead that they disappeared behind her hair.

The kid frowned, then his eyes went wide. Very wide. "Oh god, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean-'

"It's alright. I'm…" Gob sighed. "I'm used to it."

The kid eyes the floor. "It's just… I can't just let it go like that. I need… I _have_ to make sure. I can't just let it go." He raised his gaze. "Gob, _please_."

"I can't. He'll kill me if he'll only _suspect_ I told you."

Raph eyed the floor, contemplating. "Is he even here right now?"

Gob snorted. "Please, like that lazy shitbag would even bother getting up at these hours, let alone climb all the way up here."

"So… how would he know?"

"He-!" Gob stopped. How _Would_ he know? "I… no. It's too risky."

Nova groaned. "Oh for God's sake, would you finally grow a pair?"

Gob's eyebrows, or at least the muscles where he eyebrows should have been, rose.

Raph frowned. _A pair of what?_

"You and I both know that the asshole isn't going to be here for the next couple of hours. Hell, he's not even going to be _awake_ in the next couple of hours."

"But he-" " _Gob_ , help the poor kid out." Nova positioned herself in front of the ghoul, arms akimbo.

Gob eyed the floor stubbornly, but even though, he could still feel her glare.

The Ghoul sighed. "Moriarty has a terminal in the back, where he keeps tabs on some people."

"Thanks." Raph began circling the counter, going toward the back room before the ghoul caught him by the sleeve.

"You didn't hear that from me."

Raph nodded.

The back room was nothing more than a chair, the computer, and a few dent lockers.

He sat down at the terminal. He reached into his pocket to find out he forgot his pip device. Sighing, he looked around until his eyes laid on one of the locked lockers. It took him about five minutes before he managed to crack it open, to find it was holding a single holotape. It was a basic model, not holding much more than a few bytes of storage memory. Enough to hold a password.

…

"The guy wasn't lying." Raph stumbled out. "Thanks." He mumbled, leaving the saloon.

"Poor kid." Gob said.

Nova nodded. "He'll get used to it, eventually."

 _If he will make it that long._

"Hey." The woman suddenly grinned. "While Moriarty's gone, wanna go pick through his stuff?"

Gob frowned. He was too old for this Crap. _Way_ too old.

"Oh, come on!" She nudged him. "It'll be fun."

He didn't answer.

"Gob, you _know_ he's not Almighty, right?"

"But if he even hears about it…"

" _How_ , exactly? _There, is, no one, here_. Hell, even if there was, no one would bother telling him."

Gob sighed.

"For God's sake, he's not even conscious right now." She grabbed him by his shirt.

"Wha- you-"

"You need to get that omnipresent Moriarty bullshit out of your head."

Gob sighed in defeat, following the woman's lead.

Moriarty really isn't there, at least for the moment. Maybe he _should_ grow a pair.

…

"Okay, try it now."

He straightened his back and bent his knees, exactly as instructed.

"Good. Remember: squeeze the trigger, don't crush it."

The blast was deafening, and the recoil sent him stumbling back, then falling on his rear.

Sydney rubbed her forehead in frustration, leaning against Megaton's metal wall with most of her weight on her good leg. They were standing outside of megaton's gate, using a car wreck as a target. "At least you remembered to take your finger off of the trigger this time."

Raph's face turned red. Two tries earlier he ended up firing one more bullet than intended, and almost ended up making a new hole in his foot.

He was wearing his Vault security boots, Vault security knee pads, body armor and helmet, all on top of Moira's armored suit. The sun was high in the sky, and he felt every joule of solar energy.

She was wearing her military pants, one boot, and a white (or used-to-be-white kind of hue) T-shirt.

They were at this for nearly two hours with almost none to no progress. It was getting frustrating.

Raph frowned. His ears were ringing. "It's loud."

Sydney nodded. "You'll get used to it."

"Doesn't it damage your hearing?"

"Yeah." she sighed. "It does. After a few gunfights, most people go nearly deaf."

"Then, how do they manage to get by?" He thought about the bizarre interaction with the two travelers, back at the saloon.

She looked at the horizon, hands folded on her chest. "They don't."

As she let it sink in, a cool breeze blew momentarily, drying some of their sweat and raising tiny clouds of dust. Her dark locks gently fluttered in the wind.

Shaking his head, he groaned as he scrambled to get up again.

Sydney rubbed her chin. "You know, maybe you should take off some of your gear." She snapped her finger. "That's it. You're too clumsy with all of that bulk."

Raph gave at her a concerned look. "But what if something attacks us? I need to be ready."

Sydney rolled her eyes. "We're in one of the few safe spots in the entire wasteland. And don't forget we have Holmes." She looked up. "Ain't that right, Holmes?!" She yelled.

Raph looked up, seeing nothing but rust. Then a hand motioning 'A-ok.'

Raph blinked.

Then realized he was looking at a man that was laying on the catwalk that was above the town's gate, holding a sniper rifle. His clothes were the perfect camouflage.

Sydney looked back at him. "See? Besides, we have deputy weld here."

The ellipsoid shaped robot's upper half seemed to pause at the girl at the mention of its name.

Raph pondered as he started at the robot. Its upper half was alternating from left and right, doing a full one hundred and eighty degrees turn before switching sides.

 _Constant turning, arms at ninety degrees, claws spread, laser nozzles revealed… probably some kind of a sentinel mode._

Raph blinked.

She raised an eyebrow. " _Well_?"

Reluctantly, Raph began unbuckling the gloves, then the knee pad, other knee pad, helmet, and finally, the vest. Dark sweat stains were left where the armor was resting on his body a moment ago.

It was a major relief.

"The suit too."

He looked at her.

She rolled her eyes. "You have clothes underneath, don't you?"

He sighed, and reluctantly unzipped the suit's front, peeling it off of him. He scrambled to take it off of his legs, as he didn't want to take off the boots. At the end of it he stood there in a white undershirt and shorts.

Another cool breeze dried his sweat soaked clothes. He felt lighter, much lighter, agile even.

And vulnerable. The need to surround himself with protection was unbearable, almost itching.

"Try it now."

Sighing, he raised Sydney's machine gun to eye level, holding it firmly with both hands. He aimed down the sights, targeting the scratches Sydney carved for him on the vehicle's door. He exhaled, closing his eyes. _It's just a noise. A noise and some recoil_. He opened his eyes, set the safety to 'semi', took another deep breath, and squeezed the trigger.

His ears were ringing, and he had to regain his balance, but he didn't trip. The hit was way off, shattering the car's window.

But at least this time he hit the car.

"Much better! See, you're wearing too much gear."

Raph protested, "You go around with your combat armor." When Sydney raised an eyebrow again, he realized he sounded like a kid.

"I use a pre-war _military-grade_ combat armor, which I tinkered with until it fit me perfectly. I _made_ my backpack, sewn it to specifically fit me, allowing me to maneuver freely. My kneecaps are one of the best brands the armor trader at Rivet City had, and they also have been tinkered with. You wear a bulky security guard vest which you didn't bother to fit to your body, over an already uncomfortable looking suit, with a lot of cumbersome additions, an improvised backpack… should I go on?"

Raph shook his head slowly, staring at her with big eyes.

Sydney snorted. "Besides, how do you think I managed to get along before I got it?"

Raph blinked a couple of times, then lowered his gaze. Staring at her like an idiot, afraid of some gunfire, and standing there in his shorts. The last part was her fault, but still. He looked ridiculous.

 _I swear, sometimes I think the guy's retarded._ She rolled her eyes. _He didn't grow in the wastes like you did. Go easy on him_. "I'll teach you. There are ways to protect yourself without turning yourself into a walking armory. Anyway, my point is - you need to be agile, and trust your senses. Good protection should not go underrated - don't get me wrong. But you need to know how to manage without it."

He gulped. So vulnerable.

…

"First thing- you don't need this crap." she kicked away the vest, making Raph wince. "You either go with that, or the suit. Second-" she pulled out a Swiss knife and cut off the fingertips of his gloves, and completely cut off the index finger. "You need sensation, otherwise you can't feel your trigger properly."

She did the same to the other glove. "In case you'll have to shoot lefty. You can never know."

She lifted the helmet. "A helmet's fine, but I prefer to go without one." She played with the face shield, lowering it and lifting it back up.

"And that one is hella uncomfortable." She threw it behind her back.

Raph cringed, picking it up and setting it on the table as the girl went on with her fiddling. He looked at his gloves's cut fingertips that were thrown on the floor, picked up the vest that she kicked and set it neatly. The mess just kept piling on.

 _Oh god._

…

 _When you hear gun fire, first get as low as possible_. Raph echoed today's lessons in his head. He was sitting on the floor of his apartment, as the tiny house was already too crowded to fit a chair in. The Protectron was laying on the floor, its back facing up, with the back panel open. He picked up a screw driver and began disassembling the outer part of the mechanism. He could already spot at least three potential causes for one of the robot's problems.

 _Makes sense. From a distance, a person is harder to spot when laying on the ground, thus - making him a harder target._

He plugged the tablet shaped pip-device into one of the ports inside the robot.

 **-Vault-tec** ™ **Personal Information Processor (P.I.P) model 3000A**

 **UCP cable detected. Connect to external hardware? Y/N**

 **y**

 **...**

 **-External device status: Connecting…**

 **...**

 **...**

 _You can hide behind walls. Most bullets can barely penetrate concrete._

 _-How do I fire back then?_

 _First learn to shoot without falling on your ass. We'll get to that later._

 **...**

 **-No signal. Try again? Y/N**

Raph frowned.

 **n**

 **...**

 **Program terminated_**

Then the screen went blank momentarily before returning to the main menu.

 **-Vault-tec** ™ **Personal Information Processor (P.I.P) model 3000A**

 **UCP cable detected. Connect to a external hardware? Y/N**

Raph disconnected his Pip-device, flipped an internal switch, then closed the back panel. "Power up."

The top of the robot's ellipsoid body lit up. " **Con-firmed.** " Some electric buzzing were heard. " **E-RROR.** "

"Elaborate."

" **Servo,** _ **motors!**_ **not. de-tecteeed. Kinetic, systems! are at,** _ **zero**_ **per-cent.** "

"Yes, I know. I disconnected them. Proceed with the boot up."

" **Con-firmed.** " The robot then went silent again, minus the nearly inaudible sound of its Processor cooling system, as Raph continued contemplating.

 _Let's try shooting while lying down. That way you're also much more accurate for longer distances. Lie on your stomach, and spread you legs just a bit. Plant your heels into the ground. Good. This way you get as much traction as possible with the ground, which lets you resist as much recoil as possible._

" **Loading, personality. Robco. R. Zero. Four. B. Nine. Office... hel-perrr.** "

"Abort office helper routines. No need for that now."

" **Perso-nality, sub-routine. a-borted. State, desired, ac-tionnn.** "

"Enable external hardware intervention."

" **U.C.P, supp-ort, deee-tected.** "

 _Good, now I can finally-_ " **E-RROR!"**

Raph released a heavy sigh. "Elaborate."

" **U.C.P, card, mall-fun-ctionnn.** "

Raph nearly banged his head on the floor. The only other way to run self tests is when the robot is active, and having to listen to the report being read out loud by the robot's excruciating, slow, monotonic, syllable-by-syllable voice.

"Run self test, tell me the results." He grabbed a pen he found earlier and pulled a notepad from his suit backpack. "I have a long road ahead of me."

* * *

 **A\N: Hope you enjoyed!**

 **Feel free to point out typing, grammar, language, inconsistencies and other errors. I thankful very much, yah.**

 **Watermelon: Yeah XD, I'd thought it'll give some depth. Don't forget that Raph is the one who brought it from the Vault!**

 **Pal. Bailey: Maaaaybe...**

 **Also, thank you for the positivity, despite my slow-ass upload rate!**

 **Keep up the awesome people!**

 **Shouvin, out.**


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